


Sankta Lucia

by wednesdaythunder



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-13
Updated: 2012-07-13
Packaged: 2017-11-07 15:39:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 47,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/432760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wednesdaythunder/pseuds/wednesdaythunder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Christmas-calender!fic. Draco just wanted to get through his eighth year without any fuss - Trust McGonagall to drag him into some battle between the light and dark, and to make Potter his guardian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Eh, distortion of Swedish folklore and tradition? Oh, yeah, and Slash and my bad mouth :P
> 
> A/N: In Sweden, we have a tradition every 13th December. It has many names, but the most common one is Lucia. It's a celebration, that I have based this fic on (big note – based on, this fic do not follow the tradition fully because a) my mind doesn't work that way, b) it would be boring and c) it's magic and Harry Potter and I want it to be this way) and in every chapter I will tell you a little about the real thing, just for fun. And so I don't misguide you into thinking that what is going to happen in this fic is actually Swedish tradition (even though that would be fun XD)  
> Anyway, I will (hopefully if nothing goes wrong) update this fic every day until Christmas and this fic is going to be 24 chapters, because in Sweden (I'm Swedish btw, if you haven't noticed :P) we celebrate Christmas on the 24th, not the 25th like most people do. Which is awesome, I mean I get to open my presents before you lot :P
> 
> And thank you Matilda for supporting me and making me write this, and a giant Thank You(!) to Boze for saving me and being my beta!!!! :D
> 
> So anyway, I hope you enjoy my crazy ideas ^^

_Hark! through the darksome night_

_Sounds come a winging:_

_Lo! tis' the Queen of Light_

_Joyfully singing_

_Clad in her garment white_

_Wearing her crown of light_

_Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia!_

“ _Sankta Lucia” (“Santa Lucia”), English translation_

 

The first of December was, in fact, a Thursday. It had snowed the night before, leaving a layer of white powder on the Hogwarts grounds, making it look like a winter wonder land. Or that's what most people thought, at least. Draco, himself, hated the winter. And the summer, autumn and spring also for that matter, but particularly the winter. It was cold, it was dark all the time, it snowed, it was cold, it was Christmas, it was – did he forget to mention that it was freezing? Not to mention all the blizzards that liked to show up when you finally decided to poke your nose outside.

No, Draco did not like winter.

Nor did he like Christmas. Sure, he liked to get presents, but he could get those any time. Nowadays he didn't even have to ask if he wanted something, he could just get it himself. No, he didn't like to celebrate Christmas. Because Christmas was a holiday for family, and somehow his own always failed to think of that. They would have a massive Yule Ball every year with hundreds of people and he would usually not see his parents much at all through the whole evening.

The ball might have been fun when he was five and when he and Pansy ran around and ducked under the tables to hide and tickle peoples feet (that  _ was _ fun) but now he was 18 years old and was expected to mingle as a proper host and so on. It really killed his Christmas-spirit ever year.

 

“Draco,” a voice said, waking him up from his own thoughts.

“Yes?” he asked Theo, without moving from his spot in front of the window that faced the now buried path to Hagrid's little shack.

“We have to go to breakfast now if we don't want to shovel the food down our throats,” Theo stated. Draco finally turned around, grabbed his bag that Theo held out for him, and the boys started their journey to the Great Hall.

Because of the fact that they were “eighth years”, the headmistress had decided that they should all live in a place together in the castle. She claimed that all the students that had come back should not be separated, and that they should become a fifth House instead of Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Slytherins or some other crap like that. In reality it was because there wasn't any room for them in their old dormitories now that there was a new set of first-years. So the eighth years were placed in an east tower, commonly known as the  _ Eighth Year Tower _ since McGonagall had failed to come up with a House-name for them. And yes, they still walked around in their real Houses uniforms, thank Merlin.

And because there were only about thirty students or so that had returned, naturally they had all their classes together. Which meant, he had to see all the Gryffindors every. single. day.

If it had been up to him, he wouldn't have returned to Hogwarts at all. But his mother had insisted, almost threatening him.

Draco and Theo walked into the Great Hall and sat down at the Slytherin table. Draco was endlessly thankful that McGonagall hadn't put in a fifth table for the  _ eighth years _ .

“Draco,” a voice said behind him, just a he reached for a piece of toast, “Why did you leave without me?” Pansy hissed at him as she sat down next to him.

“I thought you had already left, love,” he said, looking briefly at her before returning his attention to his breakfast.

“You know I won't go anywhere without you, Draco, _why_ did you go without me?!” Honestly, he hadn't given Pansy a single thought this morning, nor her overwhelming and irritating fear of going anywhere without him.

“I thought that maybe you should learn not to need me all the time, besides, why didn't you come down to breakfast with Millicent or Daphne? You share room with them after all.” All the dorms in the tower had three beds, Draco and Theo shared their room with that irritating Ravenclaw Michael Corner, who really just slept in the room and wouldn't go near it any other part of the day if it wasn't _absolutely_ necessary. Which meant that he carried around more stuff than Granger. It was quite a funny sight.

“Milli gets up too late, Daphne gets up too early, and you get up at the same time as I do – why can't I walk with you then?”

“Because you stay glued at my side for the rest of the day, making it barely possible for me to even go to the bathroom?”

“But I need you, Draco!” Pansy whined, making Daphne who was sitting across the table, look up.

“Not good enough for you, eh?” she said with a grin playing on her face. There were only five Slytherins that had returned for their eight year: Draco, Theo, Daphne, Millicent and let's not forget Pansy. Draco had tried to persuade Gregory to come too, but he had refused. Draco, knowing exactly how he felt, hadn't pushed the matter. But it still didn't mean that he didn't miss him.

“Shush, darling, you know I love you,” Pansy said, waving her hand at Daphne. “But Draco is the one that I know will protect me best if _someone_ comes for me.” By “someone” she meant “Potter”. Pansy was frightened to her death that Potter would like to take revenge on her after what she'd said at the day of the battle of Hogwarts. Not an irrational fear since many other students had tried to do just that, though thankfully there had always been a Slytherin around to help her.

“Look Pansy,” Theo suddenly said, “if Potter hasn't done anything yet, it is not likely that he ever will. I mean, he has had half a year already to come and slaughter you, yet here you sit, all limbs still attached.”

“Theo has a point, you know,” Draco agreed.

“How would you know?” Pansy snapped, and Draco just looked pointedly at her. When she finally realized that she was in fact bordering on irrational she looked away.

“Right,” Draco said before going back to his breakfast.

 

.:X:.

 

Their last class of the day was Charms, and Draco couldn't wait to get out of the freezing classroom. So he was more than just a bit pissed off when Flitwick said that they all had to stay in their seats when the lesson ended.

“The headmistress would like to say a few important things to you all, so please remain in your seats,” he informed them, and right on cue, McGonagall entered the classroom, and took Flitwick's place in front of the class.

“I stand correct that none of you are familiar with the tradition and history of Santa Lucia?” she shot at them. The room was silent, not even Granger raised her hand answer that she in fact, knew what the hell McGonagall was talking about.

“As I thought,” the headmistress said after a while. “The celebration of Santa Lucia takes place in the Muggle-world the 13th of December every year. In Sweden, where the tradition comes from, the night of the 13th is said to be the darkest night of the whole year, and that dark magical creatures are the most active then. To stop this, people usually dress up in white attires and name, most often, a girl to be Santa Lucia and preforms a ceremony where they sing Christmas carols to stop these dark powers to get loose.

“Santa Lucia is the key figure in this ceremony, and one to lead the rest of the group through the whole thing.”

“Excuse me, but what has this got to do with us?” a Hufflepuff wanted to know, and as much as it pained Draco to admit it, she had a point.

“I was just getting to that, Miss Abbott, if you would be so kind to let me continue.” McGonagall fixed stared at her before turning towards the whole class again. “You see, in some part, the Muggles are right. Dark powers grow stronger right then, and a ceremony must be held to prevent these powers from getting loose in the world.

“Now, I'm telling you this because you are the ones who will have to perform this ceremony.”

Most students just gaped at McGonagall, some looked mildly excited as if it would be fun and some said what everyone was thinking;  _ “What?” _ . Suddenly there were a lot of voices in the room, protesting and asking questions.

“Quiet!” McGonagall demanded and the voices died down. “According to tradition it is the seventh year students that are the ones to perform this ceremony, but due to the circumstances surrounding last year, we were prevented from going through with the ceremony.”

It felt like something died a little at the mentioning of the war, and the room became a bit too quiet.

“But, shouldn't the seventh years do this ceremony now, then?” Granger suddenly asked.

“A good question, but no,” McGonagall said. “It was you-” she said looking over the class, meaning every one of them “-that should have done it last year, but since you didn't, you have to do it this year instead.”

“But doesn't that mean that those who are seventh years now have to come back next year and do the ceremony?”

“No, because of this there will be a displacement, and next year the current sixth-years will do it, as usual.

“Anyhow, the ceremony usually is quite easy, the year gathers in a lusse watch the night ofthe 13th and sing the songs that are required to drive the dark forces away. A student will be named Lucia, and he or she will be the one that leads the ceremony. Another student will be named Staffan, and it is his or her task to watch over Lucia and be her guard.

“But this year, it's going to much harder, since the dark is going to be much more powerful than usual, because there ceremony wasn't preformed last year and these dark powers have had time grow even stronger. The ceremony will be held in the Great Hall in the morning of the 13th.”

“Excuse me professor, but how do we know that that's the way to combat these dark powers?” Granger asked.

“Because it has happened before that the dark was unusually powerful and like the Muggles do, you then have to sing in front of an audience.”

“Wait! We have to _sing?_ ” some student asked.

“I believe I said so, Mr Finch-Fletchley.”

“But like, in front of people?” Some boys nodded with Finch-Fletchley.

“ _Yes_ ,” McGonagall said in a stern voice. “And attendance is mandatory.”

“I don't get one thing though,” Draco suddenly said, and the whole class turned towards him, Pansy hissed beside him, but he ignored her and focused on McGonagall. “Why are you telling us this _now_ , when you have had the whole year to do so?”

“Because according to tradition, I am only allowed to speak to you about it on the first of December when the Lucia and Staffan is chosen,” she said but nodded at him anyway as to tell him it was in fact a good question. So Draco continued.

“And how exactly are this Lucia and Staffan chosen?”

“Lucia and Staffan will be chosen in the same manner as the TriWizard champions were chosen. Everybody else will be so called 'tärnor' and 'star boys', that will form the rest of the choir to the ceremony and follow Lucia. I must ask you to write your name down on a piece of parchment and then put it here in this goblet,” she said, and pulled up a little goblet Draco hadn't seen her walk in with and placed it on Flitwick's desk. It was a lot more smaller than the one used in the Tri Wizard Tournament, and the flame was less intensive.

Quickly, Draco wrote down his name and stood up to walk to the goblet, thinking that this was insane and weird on all kinds of levels.

“Will you take mine too?” Pansy asked hopefully and held out her parchment with her name neatly written on it.

“Sure.” He smiled and walked to stand with Theo, in the line forming in front of the goblet.

Draco watched as Potter looked painfully at the goblet before handing it his name and going back to his seat with Weasel.

It didn't take long for Theo and Draco to reach the goblet and throw their names in to the flames. Draco saw how Theo also threw in two other names as well, undoubtedly Millie's and Daphne's, before they headed back to their seats in the back of the classroom.

“Who do you think is going to be chosen, Draco?” Millicent asked as soon as he sat down.

“Probably some happy-go-lucky girl and Potter,” he said, smirking.

“That would be just typical, wouldn't it? For Potter to be chosen, I mean,” Daphne said.

“Yes, and if he could, he probably would have that girlfriend of his as Lucia.” Pansy snickered.

“I guess he has to go with Granger.” Draco smirked.

“Lucia...” Theo trailed off, “It must come from _lux_.”

“What?” Daphne asked bewildered.

“ _Lux_. It's the Latin word for light.”

“Theo, darling, why do you even know stuff like that?” Pansy said.

“It's just something I picked up,” Theo snapped defensively. Really, Theo was like a walking library, he knew the most unusable things; such as Latin phrases and words that had nothing to do with spells and such.

“O-kay...” Draco said and then turned around to look at McGonagall who was calling to get everybody's attention.

“Now, the goblet will first chose Staffan, who will be the guardian of Lucia, and defend her if needed,” the headmistress said and then turned to look at the goblet whose flames happened to change into a purple colour just then.

A little piece of parchment flew up in the air and everybody's eyes followed it as McGonagall reached for it.

“Harry Potter!” she called out, and Draco's eyes snapped to said Gryffindor who banged his head on his desk, not looking happy at all.

“You were so right about Potter, Draco,” Pansy whispered in amusement in his ear.

“Now it's only up to find who the unlucky girl is,” he whispered back to her, and then looked back at the goblet.

Out of the flames a little burned piece of parchment shot up in ceiling, before it started to fall down as if in slow motion.

He did not know why, but Draco's heart hammered against his chest – hard, and he held his breath as McGonagall's hand took the parchment.

“Draco Malfoy!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, there are actually two ways that Lucia is celebrated. One from Sweden and one from Sicily, now, I'm gonna tell you the difference so you don't mix it up :P  
> The girl Lucia (later to be Santa Lucia) lived in Sicily around from around 283 – 304, she was born in a rich family and had a Christian faith, even if it was illegal. She was later to marry a man in a arranged marriage, but the man did not share her believes, so she called of the wedding and gave the dowry to the poor.  
> The man that she would have married became furious and reported her for being Christian. But when they where gonna take her away and, yeah, kill her, according to legend, they couldn't budge her, even with oxes.  
> They tried to burn her right on spot, but she wouldn't catch fire, so in the end they shopped her head of with a sword. And according to legend she send the man that she should had married her eyes, why she did that I have no clue, and then she got new, more beautiful eyes.  
> It is said that she died on the 13th of December, 304. And to this day, people around the world come to a church in Venice on the 13th of December, where it's said that Satan Lucia is resting.  
> In Sicily, Santa Lucia is celebrated a little in church, but in Sweden, we do it differently.  
> More info in the next chapter :)

_Stjärnan från Betlehem_

_Leder ej bort men hem_

_. . ._

_The star from Bethlehem_

_Don't lead away, but home_

 “ _Betlehems stjärna”/”Gläns över sjö och strand” (“Bethlehem's Star”/”Shine Over Lake and Beach”), Tegnér/Rydberg / arr: Agnestig_

 

 

“ _WHAT?!”_ Draco burst out before he even realized that his mouth was open. And he found that he didn't care. This was insane! “I refuse to –”

“Mr Malfoy, if you would please keep quiet!” McGonagall cut him off, looking ready to hex him if he said another word. “Starting today after your last class you will meet in Professor Flitwick's choir room, and I must ask you not to talk about this to anyone except eighth year students and professors. Off you go!” she dismissed them. “Mr Potter and Mr Malfoy, you stay.”

Draco was giving McGonagall an unparalleled death-stare and he felt Pansy rise beside him and squeeze his shoulder a little before she went.

“Now, if you please will take a seat here,” McGonagall said as soon as everyone was gone, except the three of them and perhaps Flitwick, but Draco couldn't see him, and she gestured to the seats directly in front of her.

With great difficulty, Draco gathered his things, __ making as much noise as possible , and  he marched to one of the seats, as far away from Potter as acceptable.

“Now I understand that you are not precisely thrilled about this – ”

“ _'Not precisely'_? I'm a bit more than _'not precisely thrilled about this'_ as you put it,” Draco snapped and McGonagall glared at him, while Potter just looked annoyed.

“You _will_ calm down and not fuss about this Mr Malfoy, the goblet chose you two and that is final! I won't hear another word about how you refuse to do what is now your duty!”

“But you said that a girl was to be Lucia. Last time I checked, I was a bloke.”

“Sure about that, Malfoy?” Potter suddenly opened his mouth to say, and Draco was just about to counter with a poisoned retort when the headmistress beat him to it.

“I said _usually_.” McGonagall had a low, stern voice which told both boys that they will shut up, or she would make them. “I believe that Professor Dumbledore was Lucia when he was a student here, so yes, boys can also be Santa Lucia.

“Now I must ask that for at least these next 13 days you two lay your differences aside and come to some kind of truce, or else this is not going to work. I don't care how you do it, but you two _will not_ go against each other before or during the ceremony, it is of utmost importance that you don't.”

“Excuse me professor, but _why_?” Potter asked.

“Because Mr Malfoy will need you to watch his back, and that will not work if it is you who is stabbing it.”

“And _why_ would I need _Potter_?” Draco snapped.

“This is a war between light and dark, Mr Malfoy, and since the goblet named you to be Santa Lucia, ergo the leader of the light, the dark will – how should I put this, attempt to blow your light out. And you'll need Mr Potter to keep that from happening when you aren't strong enough to defend yourself.”

“Since when have I not been able to defend myself?”

“You will find that the dark will be growing stronger and more forceful the nearer the 13th we come, and you need to focus on the ceremony and keeping yourself from falling apart, so you will find that you'll actually be needing Mr Potter.”

Draco swore under his breath, but knew it was a lost fight.

“And you, Mr Potter,” McGonagall said, making Potter jump, “you need to watch over Malfoy as much as possible. This is not some kind game, and it is you responsibility to make sure that he does not get hurt.

“You will both find that the dark can take may forms, not only physical, but it can also affect those you trust most, and it can visit you in your sleep. Especially you, Potter, must be on your guard at all times. Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” both boys said because they both knew that arguing in front of McGonagall was like asking to be executed.

“Good. Come to me if you have any questions, and for Merlin's sake, stay together.”

“Yes, professor,” both said in a mumble and turned to walk outside.

“ – bitch! How dare you even come back here, eh?!” was the sound that greeted them as Potter pushed the door open. The scene in front of him made Draco freeze.

The weasel stood outside the door, shouting at Pansy who looked pale and her shaking hands were balled into fists.

It took him about half a second before his wand was out, pointing at the ginger and he stepped forward to put an arm around Pansy.

“Shut the fuck up weasel, or I'll hex you into next week!” he hissed and tightened his grip around Pansy who was breathing uncontrollably.

“Sod it ferret, she doesn't deserve any defence!”

Draco could see out of the corner of his eye Granger beside Weasel, pulling his arm and demanding him to stop, but all Draco saw was red in rage .

“Don't speak of things you don't understand, you twat.”

Weasel turned red and as his hand dove into his pocket to fish up his wand,  Potter suddenly seemed to wake to life, stepping out of the doorway he had seemed paralysed in .

“Okay, _stop_ everyone!” he said, stepping in between Draco and Weasel. “Ron, shut it. Malfoy – just, just stop.”

“Harry?” Granger asked beside Weasel, “Are you – ”

“I'm fine Hermione,” Potter cut her off. “I'll explain everything later, just go for now.”

Granger did not look pleased with the answer, but she did pull her pathetic excuse of a boyfriend away towards the tower without any more questions.

As soon as the two Gryffindors were out of sight, Potter turned to him and Pansy.

“Look I'm – ”

“This is all your fault, you know,” Draco cut him off before he even had a chance to finish his sentence. Pansy hissed in protest into his chest where she had curled up, gripping his shirt for dear life.

“What?” Potter asked, perplexed.

“That was your fight, Potter. It is only you who has the right to punish Pansy for what she said, and it is your revenge to take if you think that she deserves it, _not_ your fucking followers and fans! But yet you let them bully her like just now, and do even worse things to her so she's fucking afraid to walk anywhere when I'm not with her! That is _your fault_! And if you're not mad at  Pansy – which I guess that you aren't since you haven't bothered talking to any of us Slytherins the whole year – then for fuck's sake tell your stupid pack not to pick on her! She does not deserve that, you wanker. Fuck you, Potter!” Draco spat at him before tuning around and marching away with Pansy still in his arms.

He walked until they were in an empty corridor, where he finally stopped and looked down at his friend.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

“I'm so fucking scared all the time!” Pansy sobbed uncontrollably in his shirt and Draco cursed everyone he could think of for making Pansy like this.

“It's okay, love, I'm here,” he mumbled in her hair.

“And that fucking thing you said to Potter, and Weasley – and, and – ” Pansy trailed off.

Draco could not tell how long they stood there, but eventually Pansy's sobs died down, and she took a deep, unsteady breath and looked up.

“Why did you wait for me?” he asked when she looked like she could take the question.

“I thought that you were going to be furious when you walked out of there and that you wanted to complain about everything, so I waited for you so I could try and calm you down.” She smiled joylessly.

“And then the two idiots decided that they would wait for their Golden Boy too?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

“So, shall we eat? I'm starving,” Draco said to change the subject, but Pansy shook her head.

“I don't think I can take that. Walk me back to the tower?”

“Of course,” he said, and they began walking.

“You know, it is in times like these that I miss the dungeons.”

“You mean that they are like a hiding-place?”

“No, more like a safe place. I feel at home there. In the tower I just feel like I'm gonna fall out the window and smash to the ground sometimes, you know what I mean?”

“Yeah. I miss all the green.”

Pansy laughed a little at that.

 

.:X:.

 

Harry didn't even manage to sit down at the table before there were questions shooting from every direction.

“What did McGonagall say?”

“What did _Malfoy_ say?”

“What are you gonna do now?”

“Why did you stop me from beating up Malfoy, Harry?”

“ _What_ are you all talking about?!” Ginny shouted bewildered and suddenly all the questions died down.

“Let me eat, guys.” Harry started to shovel up food on his plate just to demonstrate.

“We'll talk about this later in the common room,” Hermione, who sat next to him, whispered in his ear, as if to say that he was not getting away without an explanation. Unfortunately, Ginny heard.

“Okay, what is going on? And don't ignore my questions!” she demanded. Harry sighed and looked up at her.

“I really can't tell you, Gin. I want to, but I'm not allowed to. None of us are.”

“Us?” Harry cursed under his breath.

“The eighth years,” Hermione said when she seemed to think Harry wasn't answering quickly enough.

“And _none_ of you can tell me?” Everybody that was following the conversation shook their heads.

“You'll find out soon enough, Ginny,” Ron said.

“What? How?”

“I can't tell you!”

“But how then?”

“Ginny, you'll have to wait, I promise you will know soon enough. See it as a Christmas-present,” Harry said. Ginny was about to say something, but Harry's gaze, for some reason unknown to himself, drifted over to the entrance of the Great Hall just in time to see Malfoy walk in.

For a brief moment, their eyes met, and Malfoy  scowled at him . Then he looked away, just like that, and Harry watched Malfoy walk up to the Slytherin table, take some food on two plates and then  walk out again . It was just then that Harry noticed Parkinson wasn't with him.

Harry felt guilt stab  through him and he looked down at his plate, suddenly not hungry any more.

“Harry, are you even listening?” a voice suddenly called.

“What?” he asked and looked up.

“Never mind...” Ginny said with a hint of bitterness.

Ginny did not like at all that Harry and the others were living in a separate dormitory from her, and that no matter how much she begged, she wasn't allowed to enter. Hermione, as the girl she was, had strictly forbidden anyone that wasn't an eighth year, professor or house elf to enter, so even though Harry had at some point tried to get Ginny inside Hermione was having none of it.

In some way, Harry was grateful to Hermione. After a summer with Ginny by his side nearly at all times, it was nice to just sit down at the fireplace with some friends or by himself and just  _be_ .

“It feels like we're from two different Houses!” Ginny had once said when Harry told her no, she could not enter.

“Come on, Ginny, just because we don't share a common room doesn't mean that everything is awful.”

“But I hardly see you any more!”

“You see me all the time, I hardly have time to do my homework! And besides, there are many couples that come from different Houses and still manage.”

“But we _aren't_ from different Houses, Harry! And I'm sick of you living in that tower that I can never visit, and that you don't come and visit me either!”

“You know I'm not allowed to do that,” he said wearily.

“It's not like anyone will tell on you, Harry! Everybody misses you.”

Harry had been about to point out that she had survived a whole year without knowing where Harry was, but it hadn't seem like a good idea to mention the war, so he just shook his head and dropped the subject.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, the Swedish tradition with Santa Lucia (or Sankta Lucia as we say) has actually very little to do with the woman and saint Santa Lucia, and the connection between the two of then is at least according to me, quite fucked up.  
> For one, the Swedish church is a protestant church after the Lutheran doctrine (Martin Luther, mind you, not Martin Luther King), and we do not have saints in our church, with makes the celebration of Santa Lucia quit weird.  
> No, that's not why we do it. Like, according the Julian calender, that comes from Julius Ceasar and Roman times and was used before the calender that we use today, the night to the 13th of December was the winter solstice and therefore the longest night of the year (at least in northern Europe, I don't think it covers the whole world :P). And according to Swedish folklore supernatural powers where at the essence, and like animals could talk and so on. It was said that it was a dangerous night, and people usually staid up in a watched and ate and drank, now days known as “lussevaka” – roughly translated to lussewatch, to await the breaking dawn when the sun would return.

_Trollsejd och mörkermakt ljus du betvingar_

_Signe lågornas vakt skydd åt oss bringar_

_Drömmar med vingesus, under oss sia_

_Tänd dina vita ljus, Sankta Lucia_

_. . ._

_Trollsejd and dark power, light you overpower_

_Bless the flames guard, who brings us protection_

_Dreams with wings murmur, under us predict_

_Ignite your white candles, Santa Lucia_

“ _Sankta Lucia”, Sigrid Elmblad_

 

“So, are you gonna tell us what McGonagall said or what?” Ron said later in the common room where Harry, Ron and Hermione sat in front of the fireplace. By the looks of it, Hermione was begging to ask the same question, but her boyfriend had beaten her to it.

“Well...” Harry began, and then told the two of themeverything he remembered.

“But, doesn't that mean that you have to be with Malfoy all the time?” Hermione asked as soon as he had finished.

“She can't possibly mean _all_ the time, that would be ridiculous!” Ron said.

“I think she does though...”

“Hermione, McGonagall can't expect me to be by Malfoy's side every waking hour, we can't even stand each other!”

“Do you even know where he is, Harry? You have to take this seriously, he could be in danger.”

“Oh, the horror!” Ron gasped dramatically, making Harry laugh a little.

“I think he's with Parkinson and his other friends.I saw him picking up food forher in the Great Hall earlier.”

“You think Harry, but you don't know,” Hermione proclaimed.

“Come on Hermione, and besides it's just the first of December, _the dark_ _powers_ haven't made a move yet.” He grinned and Ron laughed beside him. Hermione rolled her eyes and then attempted to refocus on her Charms essay, just to look up again about ten minutes later.

“But what happened after we left, you know, with Parkinson and all that?” she asked.

Harry felt a stone settle in his stomach uncomfortable as he remembered what Malfoy had said.  “He was mad at me, and said that it was all my fault,” Harry said sheepishly.

“What! That's ridiculous!” Ron protested, and Harry didn't doubt for a second that if Malfoy had blamed him while Ron and Hermione were still there, there would have been a fistfight in the matter of seconds.

“But he had a point, you know!” Harry said, making Ron shut up and listen, “Apparently Parkinson is terrifiedto go anywhere without him because people keep attacking her for what she said, much like you did Ron. And when I think about it, I have always seen her in the company of _someone_ this year.”

She tried to hand you over to Vol–– Voldemort, Harry, of course people are mad her!”

“But it’s my decision whether to be mad at her, not everybody else! And actually I haven't given the whole thing a second thought beforetoday, so I really don't care.”

“Harry, she hasn't actually apologized to you,” Hermione pointed out.

“Yeah, she probably doesn'tregret it either,” Ron said.

“You think she’s content to feel threatened every day because of what she said _ **?**_ I don't think so, Ron,” Harry said. “Anyway, Malfoy was right. It is my fault, and I have to tell people to stop picking my fights for me and leave Parkinson alone. Since I don't care, I don't see why everybody else should.”

“But Harry – ” Ron began.

“My fight, Ron.”

 

.:X:.

 

Draco had actually never been  _in_ the choir room, none of his fellow Slytherins had. But Theo knew where it was anyway.

“Did you take secret choir-lessons with Flitwick or what?” Daphne asked her boyfriend as they stepped inside the  room. The room itself had a very high ceiling and a wide wooden  staircase that lead directly into a wall. Draco guessed that it was on that staircase that the choir stood.

“No,” Theo answered, “I just like to know my way around the castle – ”

“In case you get lost, you mean?” Draco cut him off and smirked. “I swear, in all the years I've known you Theo, I've never seen you get lost anywhere.”

“That’s because I always know where I’m going…”

Anyone __ that was going to say something about Theo's statement was cut off when Flitwick entered the room through his personal door.

“Right. Gather around now everybody, please take a seaton the choir risers,” he said and gestured towards the staircase. Draco and the other Slytherins sat down at one end of the stairs, asfar away from the rest of the class as possible.

“Right, now since this is ceremony is going to be done in much more detail than usual, you not only have to know all the songs, but you are going tosing them in parts.”

“Wait, what?” Weasley asked.

“Parts, Mr. Weasley, in different harmonies, I'm sure you will discover what I'm talking about sooner or later.” Draco heard Millicent snicker and he himself wasn't far from laughing at Weasley either.

“Now, I'm going to call you forward one by one, and you will sing a short piece for my so I can determine what vocal part you will sing best. Mr. Malfoy, you first.”

A wave of giggles and whispers spread through the class when Flitwick said that, and Draco felt himself boil.

“Why should I go first? Shouldn't you go alphabetically or something?” he protested.

“Not enjoying the spotlight, eh Malfoy?” Weasel said, making half the class laugh. Draco swore, if Weasley hadn’t been on the other side of an ocean of people, Draco would have his hands around hisneck right then.

“You shut your loud trap if you know what's good for you, Weasel.”

“Now, now,” Flitwick said, “There will be no jokes about how people sing here, or House points will go.Three points from Gryffindor and let that be your warning.

“Now you must go first, Mr. Malfoy, because the ceremonyis built around you and your voice is the most important. Now come down here!”

Draco swallowed and walked to Flitwick, who was holding out a parchment for him, and Draco felt his stomach rumble in disapproval. He had actually never sung before, not properly, and was quite uneasy about the whole thing.

Apparently Filtwick saw his hesitation, and said so everyone could hear; “Now, the goblet chose you for a reason, and I believe you have a great singing-voice hidden inside of you, Mr Malfoy.” He smiled as Draco took the parchment, and found that he didn't understand a single word it said.

“It's in like Norwegian or something,” he proclaimed.

“Swedish, my boy, Swedish.”

“Howam I suppose to sing in a language that I don't even speak?” Draco asked critically and glared daggers at anyone that had started to giggle.

“It will come to you,” Flitwick said and patted him on the tailbone since he couldn't reach Draco's actual back. “You _are_ Lucia, after all.” The little man smiled and stepped back.

Draco glanced one last time at the class and at Flitwick before he looked down at the weird words again, realizing that he didn't even know the freaking melody! But he guessed that Flitwick would just say “it will come to you” or likewise so Draco opened his mouth and tried to sing whatever those words were in a random melody that just came by itself.

His voice started out as a low murmur , but as he became  somewhat sure of himself it __ grew louder,  his eyes never leaving the parchment __ to meet people's mocking gazes.

The melody he sang was a slow, almost ceremonial one, and he felt his voice just float like clear water over the lyrics. He let his voice take over, crystal clear and high-pitched as it was, and he didn't give a fuck about what people though of him any more, all that mattered was song that he was singing.

After what seemed like eternity the song that Flitwick had wanted him to sing finally ended, and Draco looked up to find the whole room staring at him silently. You could have heard a snowflake fall to the ground.

“What?” Draco snapped, not at anyone in particular.

“Ho ho, Mr Malfoy, that was splendid!” Professor Flitwicksaid delightfully, smiling with his whole face looking like Christmas had come early. “Knew you would have a wonderful voice Mr Malfoy, indeed.”

Every eye followed Draco as he sat down again and Pansy immediately hissed in his ear, “Since when can you sing?”

“I didn't know I could sing until five seconds ago!”

“Come on Draco, you must have sung in the shower or something.”

“Why the hell would I sing in the shower? Even at home when no one could hear me?”

“You're sitting here saying that you have never sung in the shower?”

“No I haven't!”

“What a miserable life you must have had.”

“Why would you sing in the shower? You’re showering!”

“Oh, the young nowadays...”

“I'm older than you, Pansy.”

“Well the old then.”

In front of them Flitwick was calling students forward to sing the same piece as Draco had done, and it was quite a funny thing to watch. Weasley was – big surprise – a terrible singer and it was hard not to break out in laughter when he tried to pronounce the words and sing at the same time, Draco had almost died trying to suppress the laughter that was building up inside of him.  Flitwick looked like someone had scratched their nails across the blackboard by the time Weasel was done.

Weasel's girlfriend wasn't much better. She almost read out the lyrics, focusing much more on the pronunciation than the actual song, and her voice faltered as she tried to hit a high note, making Draco grimace.

Potter had a light baritone voice that floated nicely, but he mumbled through the whole piece, so unlike Pansy who's voice grew loud and brash after only a few words. Theo sang like he had read about it in some book. It wasn't technically wrong, but it was monotone and quite boring to listen to.

Longbottom however, was a great surprise. He started out as a nervous wreck, stumbling over the words and not catching a melody at all. But then he seemed to cool down and much like Draco, his voice began to develop. It was strong and deep, and much more decent than anybody in the room had ever imagined.

“Right,” Flitwick said when everybody was done, still a bit shaky after Weasley's performance, “that will be it for today I think. I want you all to take a roll of parchment each and look at the songs, try to read them, and use translation- and pronunciation-spells if you must. We'll go over partstomorrow. Now off to dinner.”

Everyone grabbed a scroll for themselves before they walked to the tower to dump their things and head for dinner.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you where young when this tradition was first developed, we are around 1600 – 1700s, it was usual that you would go from farm to farm, singing songs and beg for a little food or drinks or what ever, with I find weird in some ways, you weren't to go out that night, and yet they to it. Kids... (laugh)  
> Anyway, it was a tradition that for some reason pointed out light and dark as very significant, and that tradition was to live on into the 1600 – 1700s century.

_Staffan var en stalledräng_

_Vi tackom nu så gärna_

_Han vattnar sina fålar fem,_

_allt för den ljusa stjärna_

_Ingen dager synes än,_

_stjärnorna på himmelen de blänka_

_. . ._

_Staffan was a stableman_

_We thank him now so well_

_He waters his ponies five,_

_all for the bright star_

_No daylight was seen yet,_

_stars on the sky they shine_

“ _Staffan var en stalledräng” (“Staffan was a stableman”)_




 

Something weird happened every time Malfoy sang. __ Harry couldn't take his eyes off no of him. __ Even if Voldemort rose again __ and was standing next to him breathing __ down his neck, Harry was riveted. That's how enchanting Malfoy was __ when he put  his mouth to use for something other than irritating the hell out of everybody.

Harry liked Malfoy when he sang. Not in a “I like you, let's be friends” kind of way, but in the way that he was bearable. Harry could look at him, listen to him, even think about him, and he would not feel rage, irritation, regret, sorrow, guilt or any other unpleasant feelings that usually came with Malfoy.

Yes, Harry liked when Malfoy sang. But as soon as he stopped, it was like reality hit him hard in the gut, to  remind him just who that voice belonged to.

“Are you gonna sit there all day and stare or are you actually gonna make yourself useful?” Malfoy sneered, usual smirk right in place. Greengrass said something in Malfoy's ear that made him laugh and Harry didn't doubt for a second that it was about him.

So this was the git that he was going to have to watch over. The tall, blond, pointy faced prick with the most amazing voice eve- no, what the fuck, just – no.

After their second choir lesson __ with Flitwick, Harry, Ron and Hermione finally headed to the Great Hall for dinner.

“Merlin, I'm so hungry!” Ron complained, “I don't get why we have to meet every _single_ day.”

“It's because there is so much to prepare for, Ron. Haven't you noticed how long the list of songs is?” Hermione said, “And it's crucial that everyone knows everything by heart.”

“Yeah, but still...”

“And the professors have lowered the workload for us too. We have lesshomework or exams to prepare for, so it's obvious that they want us to focus on this.”

“Well that's at least one good thing that comes from this.” Harry said as they entered the Great Hall. He spotted Ginny and Luna sitting at the Gryffindor tableand smiled a little as they walked over there and sat down.

“How come you're always so late for dinner?” Ginny asked, keeping her voice as nonchalant as possible, but Harry could hear the anger behind it.

“Er–” he started.

“We'll find out in time. Isn't it obvious that Harry can't say anything?” Luna of all people said, and Harry smiled at her. Luna was brilliant sometimes.

Ginny did not look okay with her friend's statement, and Harry had a feeling that Ginny had hoped that Luna would have helped her to try and pry up some information from Harry and the others.

“It's just that, I hardly see any of you any more,” Ginny said. “I mean you all come late to dinner, and afterwards you always go to that tower of yours and don't come out again until thenext morning.”

“Ginny, I understand that you feel this way, but believe me when I say that we have a lot on our minds.” Hermione said and smiled a little. “Why don’t we talk about other things now that we’re all together?”

“I agree with Hermione.” Ron said, nodding his head.

And so they left the subject, for the time being, because Harry had no doubts that Ginny would take the matter up again. He just hoped that it wasn't any time soon.

 

.:X:.

 

The first time Draco really noticed that someone, or something, was sincerely out to get him, was three days after he had been named Lucia.

It was Saturday, just after breakfast, and Draco, Pansy and Millicent were in the library studying. They sat around a little circular table __ mostly covered by books. Pansy was writing furiously on an essay, Millicent was __ taking her time trying to translate a text from Runes to English and Draco was flicking through book after book, trying to find some information about Lucia. Because hey, he was curious.

With a loud sigh he slammed shut the book he had been reading - no luck with that one either - and took the entire __ pile of books he had brought to the table to put them back on the shelves. Hopefully he would find a book that had actual information about what he wanted to know.

Pansy shot him a nervous stare as he rose from his chair, but he knew that she would be safe with Millie until he came back.

Walking around, he let the books float back to their right place on the shelves, and scanned book spines for something that could help him.

Suddenly he heard a loud crack from behind him, and he spun quickly __ around to see what it was. Everything looked in order to him as he stood in the space between two large shelves.

Then he heard a book fall to the floor, with an audible “thunk”, and he looked down at the light brown cover with wide eyes. He turned his head to look up at the shelf that the book had fallen from, just to see  another book start to fall , followed by another, and another.

Draco inhaled sharply and stood paralyzed as he watched the giant shelf fall down, books falling out and hitting the floor with loud smacks. A great encyclopaedia hit his __ left shoulder – hard, and Draco fell to __ the floor and raised his __ hands above his head to protect himself.

Books were hitting him on his back and the pain and pure panic ran through him like fire and he did not know if he was screaming, if his eyes were closed or wide open. The only thing that he knew was that he was going to be buried under books and that the enormous shelf was going to crush him.

And then it all stopped. The books stopped falling, and he felt a heavy weight lying on him, pressing him hard to the floor, and the world was nothing except absolute quiet. But like all things, the silence didn't last forever either.

He started to hear something moving above his head. It sounded like someone was moving the books away, but even though he wanted to look he couldn't, the books were pressing down on him so hard that he could hardly breathe.

He did not know how long he laid there, but suddenly a voice called his name.

“Malfoy, are you okay?” he heard and looked up to find Granger looking at him in a little hole throughthe mountain of books.

“Just laying around with ten tons of literature on top of me, the usual you know,” he said, surprising even himself with the light hearted sarcasm.

Granger laughed a little and then turned around and he heard her say “He's fine”.

It was a matter of minutes until Granger and whoever else that was helping her had cleared enough books so that Draco could crawl his way out of the book-cave that had been created.

The first thing he noticed when he stood up was Madame Pince  pitching a fit about all the books __ while McGonagall stood __ beside her and tried to calm her down, looking like she was ready to hex the woman any second. The second thing he noticed was Pansy, standing a bit away from everything else, looking like she had just seen him die.

Out of nowhere she threw herself at him, climbing onto him like she never wanted to let him go ever again _**.** _

“Argh, Pansy! Bruises!” Draco cried out, for the first time really realizing how much his whole body hurt.

“Sorry! Sorry Draco,” Pansy said, muffled because she had her head buried in his chest. Even though it hurt, he still put an arm around her.

“Draco, what happened?” Millicent asked. She had been standing right next to him without him realizing.

“I – I heard some kind of crack sound, and the next thing I knew books were falling down on me,” Draco explained.

“Miss Granger,” McGonagall's voice suddenly cut through, making everybody that had been listening to the Slytherins look at her, “Do you know where Mr Potter is?” There was a warning in her tone hinting that someone was in big trouble. Fortunately for Draco, that person was Potter.

“I – I don't precisely know, professor,” Granger said in a small voice.

“Well, you and I better find him then, while Miss Parkinson and Miss Bulstrode escort Mr Malfoy to the hospital wing.”

“Yes, professor,” Granger said and rushed to a table nearby and started to collect what Draco reckoned were her things, while McGonagall turned to Madame Pince again.

“Call Argus and get him to help you with cleaning this up, dear.”

“But – but, the shelves can't fall down by themselves! It is obviously someone's fault that they fell!” the librarian said and shot Draco an angry glare.

“You're right, someone is behind this, but I'm afraid that they can't be punished by detention,” McGonagall said and then turned to walk out of the library, with Granger quickly following after her.

Draco and the others took that as their sign to go too, and  Draco, heavily supported by Millicent and Pansy on his other side, made his way to the hospital wing.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now Lussi, which is later to de known as “Lusse”, is the name that we are calling the 13 th of December. We call it now days “Lussedagen” (“Lusseday”) but it heading over to call it “Lucia” instead, it's neater, more simple.  
> Lussi came from the “Lussekärringen” with in google translate means Lusse-bitch or Lusse-witch (bitch or witch is not the full extent of the word “kärring” folks, do not ever think that, it's just partly (great, now I'm teaching my readers how to curse in Swedish... (laugh))) which was a kind of witch that flew around (not on a broomstick as far as I know) with her followers that where called “lussiferda” (that sounds weird even in Swedish by the way), and from the 13 th to Christmas, children that where naughy should be extra careful because the Lusse-bitch (laugh) could come down the chimney and take them away. And if some certain Christmas-preparations weren't done before the 13 th, the Lusse-bitch (damn, I still find that funny) could punish the whole farm in question.  
> This is all quite confusing, but if you're gonna remember any of this A/N, if you read any of this at all, (I don't know, maybe you all skip this text and to direct to the story...) it is that Lussi/Lusse wasn't from the beginning linked with Santa Lucia the saint, that connection came later.

_Så mörk är natten vid midvintertid_

_Men se, då nalkas Lucia._

_Hon kommer, den goda, med ljuset hit,_

_Hon kommer med hälsning om julefrid,_

_Hon kommer med ljus i sin krona_

_. . ._

_So dark is the night in midwinter times,_

_But see, then approach Lucia._

_She comes, the good one, with the light here,_

_She comes with promise of Christmas peace,_

_she comes with light in her crown_

“ _Så mörk är natten I midvintertid” (“So dark is the night in midwinter times”),_ _Johny Johansson and Carl Bertil Agnestig_

 

Hermione walked quickly beside  Professor McGonagall, searching for Harry. McGonagall was furious with Harry, that was clear, and quite frankly so was Hermione. She had told him to watch over Malfoy, no matter what he thought of him. Yet Malfoy had surprisingly __ behaved more maturely than Harry in the matter.

She thought for a second that it might have been the shock that had __ made Malfoy react to the fallen shelf the way he did, joking about it and comforting Parkinson who had clearly been upset, instead of going for __ the usual “My father will hear about this” with the sneer that she was so used to seeing. She had been in the library when the shelf had fallen, the loud crash had sent her flying out of her chair and turning around to see one giant shelf leaning against another with all its books fallen out and lying in a __ pile on the floor. Then Parkinson had cried  _“Draco!”_ and had run over to __ the scene and started to throw the books away by hand in a frantic panic.

That was all it took for Hermione to realize how deadly serious this thing was.

She had rushed over and started to levitate the books away with magic, and Bulstrode was over in the matter of seconds to try __ to calm Parkinson down while Hermione tried to get all of __ the books out of the way.

And suddenly there __ was McGonagall, followed by a most hysterical Madam Pince, and the headmistress had just had to look at the fallen shelf to know what was going on.

After about ten minutes, Hermione and McGonagall had created a hole in the pile and Hermione looked inside and saw Malfoy's blond head and how he was holding his arms above it.

“Malfoy, are you okay?” she had asked, concerned and unsure if he could even hear her.

“Just laying around with ten tons of literature on top of me, the usual you know,” he had answered with a softened, more pleasant smirk thanusual and for a brief moment Hermione had wondered if he really was okay. It was only the steadiness in his eyes that had reassured her, and made her smile at his humour.

“He's fine,” she had turned around andsaid, making Parkinson stop hyperventilating.

After approximately five minutes of more book moving __ Malfoy had than crawled out.

 

McGonagall and Hermione rounded a corner, and while McGonagall kept her eyes straight ahead Hermione took time to look out the window to one of the many courtyards.

There she saw Harry, walking hand in hand with Ginny, kicking snow as they walking aimlessly. Hermione hesitated for a second because she knew that Harry and Ginny did not spend as much time with each other as they used to. But Harry had a responsibility, and the 13th of December wasn't that far away anyhow, so he was needed more by Malfoy's side than by Ginny's.

“Professor, I've found him.” She nodded her head towards the courtyard when McGonagall turned to look at her in question.

“Well done, Miss Granger. I'm afraid though that I have to ask you to come with me to the hospital wing with Mr Potter. I believe that he might accept things a more easilyif he has a friend with him,” she said, and Hermione only said a faint “Yes, Professor” as McGonagall stepped outside into the courtyard and marched over to Harry and Ginny.

“Mr Potter, if you will come with me,” she said simply but sternly and then drew her mouth like a thin line, glaring at him.

Realization hit Harry immediately and he disconnected his hand from Ginny's, turning towards her to make an excuse.

“Has Harry done something wrong, Professor?” Ginny asked before Harry could open his mouth.

“It's more of what Mr Potter hasn't done,” McGonagall said with a dark undertone.

“I'll come with him,” Ginny statedand reached to take Harry's hand again, but he pulled it away and took one step back.

“Listen Ginny, this is important, and you know I can't tell you. I wish I could so that you would at least understand, but I can't,” he said, looking apologetically at her. “I'm sorry, Ginny, I have to go.” He hugged her lightly and kissed her cheek, and then he turned around to followMcGonagall.

“Hermione?” He looked a bit startled when he saw her waiting for him inside, and raised a eyebrow as if to ask her what was exactly going on when she started to walk beside him following McGonagall.

“We're going to the hospital wing,” she said, because she could guess that Harry really wanted to know where he was going. “Malfoy's there.” That was all she decided to tell him, firstly because there was a chance that someone might overhear, and secondly because she was mad at him for not being there and prevent it from happening.

Harry kept looking at her pointedly for a while, as if to ask her to tell him more, but when she said nothing he faced __ forward and kept quiet until they entered the hospital wing.

“ _I'm_ _fine_ , yes _really!_ ” Malfoy's voice greeted them as the large doors opened. Malfoy was lying on one of the beds with Madam Pomfrey fussing everywhere around him, andcasting spells on him, while Parkinson and Bulstrode stood as close to the bed as they could without bumping intoPomfrey.

When they entered everybody else looked up at them. Pomfrey let out a relieved noise, Malfoy's face was unreadable, Bulstrode glared daggers at Harry and Parkinson flinched at the sight of him.

McGonagall walked straight up to Pomfrey and Malfoy with Harry and Hermione following a bit slower behind.

“Any injuries?” McGonagall asked Pomfrey.

“A lot of bruises and a fractured rib, but he'sall healed now,” Pomfrey answered and turned to Malfoy. “You're free to go.” She smiled.

“Great.” Malfoy jumped out of the bed was by Parkinson's side before anyone could blink. Hermione studied the two Slytherins, wondering what kind of relationship they really had. Before, she hadthought that they were boyfriend and girlfriend, but it didn't look like they were when she looked at them if she compared them to Nott and Greengrass or even herself and Ron. They were close, no question about that, but not the kind of close that most couples were.

McGonagall was murmuring something to Pomfrey who nodded before she wen t back to her office.

“Mr Potter,” McGonagall called, making Harry who was standing beside Hermionejump.

“Yes, Professor?” His voice was uncertain as he looked up.

“The fact that you did not watch over Mr Malfoy when I specifically told you to do so could have had grave consequences. Have youany idea how serious this is, Mr Potter?” she hissed, her voice poisonous.

“I did – ” Harry began but McGonagall's stare silenced him.

“Because of your recklessness I am going to make this very clear, to all of you.” She looked up at every one else there and then turned back to Harry, “You are to watch over MrMalfoy _every waking hour_ , even more if necessary, to make sure that no accident happensagain. Are we clear?” Her gaze was as hard and cold as ice as she glared at Harry, making even Hermione feel a bit afraid. She could only imagine how Harry was feeling right now.

Nevertheless , he answered steadily “Yes, Professor,” looking her in the eyes.

“Now, Mr Malfoy.” She turned to Malfoy, who was looking blankly back at her. “You will accept MrPotter's help and company when he gives you it, and if something happens that he is not aware of, you will inform him. And try not to thinkthat you can handle this by yourself. You have far too much to focus on and as I think you are aware, you can't always watch your own back.”

“Yes, Professor,” he answered flatly, nodding.

“Good. Now off you go then.”

Malfoy marched out of the hospital wing with his fellow Slytherins by his side, and Harry and Hermione hurried after, following them. They led the way to the library. The walk was quiet and not once did Malfoy turn around even though Bulstrode did it frequently and Parkinson occasionally.

When they walked in they saw a little crowd that had gathered around the fallen bookshelf and Madam Pince and Filch trying to tip the shelf over to its original standing position.

“Wow, what happened here?” Harry exclaimed startled, and right then Malfoy turned around looking angrily at Harry.

“That,” Malfoy snapped, “is the very bookshelf that chose to tip over and dump all its literature on me while you were out snogging your so called girlfriend, idiot.”

And just like that, it was like stepping back to third year with Harry and Malfoy at each others throats, the atmosphere hot and burning like fire.

Harry was just about to answer Malfoy, his eyes shining with an intensity __ she hadn't seen in them for a very long time. She cut him off before he __ ever got the chance to snap back.

“Guys! We do not want a fight, behave!” she exclaimed earning a sneer from Malfoy and a frustrated sigh from Harry. She ignored it all together. “I propose that you lot get your belongings and whichever literature you were working with and then we all go the tower?”

To her surprise Bulstrode nodded in agreement and turned to Draco, “As much as it pains me to agree with Granger, she has a point. If you want to cause a scene, you could do it in the Eighth Year Tower where it would be somewhat kept a secret, Draco,” she said.

“ _Fine!_ ” he snapped and turned around and stalked towards a table where he and his friends had been sitting before, mumbling something that Hermione could only make out the swear words of.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I don't precisely get how it come to it, but usually, around the 1800s I believe, a female figure, usually dressed in white, came with food and drink as a part of the celebration, and she had candles with her. Sometimes the candles where put on her head so that it looked like some kind of gloria.

_Then down to hell I took my way_

_For my true loves deliverance,_

_And rose again of the third day,_

_Up to my true love and the dance_

_Sing oh! my love! oh! my love, my love, my love,_

_This have I done for my true love._

“ _Tomorrow shall be my dancing day”, William B. Sanday, John Gardner_




 

Harry was glaring angrily at Malfoy who was walking from bookshelf to bookshelf, scanning every spine with a permanent frown so slowly __ that Harry could only draw the conclusion that Malfoy was doing it just to irritate him.

 

They had planed to go __ to the Eighth Years Tower, and Malfoy's friends and Hermione were ready to go. It was just Malfoy that everyone was waiting for. And of course Harry couldn't __ just walk away and leave Malfoy in the library to search for his imaginary book, no he  _had_ to wait for him because if he ever let Malfoy out of his sight again McGonagall was going to give him hell. And no matter what he had __ said or shown, he did feel guilty that he hadn't been there __ when the shelf had fallen, even though Malfoy seemed okay. It was his fault more or less for letting that happen.

An idea suddenly hit him; he could just physically __ drag Malfoy to the Tower. That was genius, because maybe then he could  _finally_ sit down by the fire and do absolutely __ nothing as he had planned after his meeting with Ginny.

Hermione seemed to have sensed what he was about to do because just before he had stood up from the chair that he was sitting in, Hermione flew up and walked up to Malfoy who was a few shelves away.

Harry blinked and __ turned around to find Bulstrode and Parkinson on the other side of the table; Bulstrode reading a book like she knew that Malfoy was going to take forever and Parkinson staring at everything except Harry, looking extremely uncomfortable. He snapped his gaze around and looked just in time to see Hermione confront Malfoy. They weren't so far away, so he could still hear when Hermione spoke.

“Malfoy? Are you looking for something in particular?” she asked gently. Malfoy jerked his head around to look at her, still frowning, before looking back at the shelf.

“I was trying to find some information about this whole Lucia-thing, but I haven't found a good book all day and it irritates me to leave the library empty-handed.” He sounded a bit frustrated, like he just wanted to pull out a book and go.

Even though Hermione had her back to Harry, he could sense that she was smiling.

“I was also looking for some information myself actually, before the whole shelf falling down incident. I think we should look in that section over there, I found whatone or two books there earlier.” She gestured towards some shelves to their left and Malfoy nodded and followed her there.

Now __ Harry could only make out small words of what they where saying, but both Hermione's and Malfoy's voices held a polite and soft tone, so at least he didn't have to worry about Malfoy insulting Hermione or a fight beginning.

After about ten minutes or so they came both came back, each with a pile of.

“Found something then?” Bulstrode looked up grinning at Malfoy.

“I sure hope so, or else I'll be back here before closing-time,” Malfoy answered and Harry groaned, because that meant that he would have to accompany him and Hermione was more than likely going to make him if he refused,because if Malfoy had to go back here it meant that Hermione did too. And when Hermione went to the library, she thought that everyone else should follow her example.

Malfoy and Hermione put the books in their bags, and Hermione whose bag was already full had to carry some of the books in her arms. Bulstrode shut her book that she had been reading and __ threw it inside her bag and Parkinson was by Malfoy's side before anyone had the time to react.

“I can't believe that you haven't used a charm to make that bag bigger inside yet, Granger,” Malfoy pointed out when they started to walk to the Tower.

“Ah, yes well, I haven't really thought about it actually,” Hermione replied, an eyebrow raised at Malfoy's statement.

“Understandable. I remembered that Daphne always lost things in her bag after I helped her charm it. Essays could be gone for half a year and she had to re-write them.” He grinned at the story and Parkinson grinned with him as they reminisced.

“I can imagine that. I once fit an entire tent into a bag that was only big enough to hold my socks,” Hermione answered and then flinched a little at the mention of the pearl handbag. Malfoy watched Hermione's face and if he understood her facial expression he didn't show it, instead he moved on with their weird conversation.

“What books did you find?” he asked keeping eyes looking forward.

“Oh, _Scandinavian Mythology and Traditions_ , _The Guide to Swedish_ _Wizarding_ _Society_ , _10 000 Nightmares Before Christmas,_ _Swedish Muggle Traditions_ , and some more in my bag...” Hermione jumped right on the new subject.

“If we're lucky we won't have to go back to the library until Tuesday.” Malfoy smirked and looked devilishly at Harry over Hermione's head. Harry just looked away and tried to ignore the annoying bastard.

Malfoy and Hermione continued to talk all the way to the Tower, small talk about school and books,  __ while Bulstrode sometimes interposed with something and __ Harry and Parkinson kept their mouths shut.

The common room was empty when they entered. Harry guessed that everyone was out playing in the snow or something, and now that Harry thought about it, the Slytherins were never seen sitting in the common room. They where only ever seen crossing it to get to their dormitories or going out.

“Should we perhaps read through the books together?” Hermione proposed and Malfoy looked at Parkinson as if she held his answer.

“I'm going to my dorm,” she spoke for the first time all day and quickly turned to leave. Malfoy looked for a second as if he was about to follow after her, but Bulstrode put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“I'll go after her.” She smiled at him, and Harry realized that that was the first time he had seen any Slytherin smile. Smile for real, not smirking or sneering. “I trust you can handle the company of two Gryffindors by yourself?”

“You'll probably hear me when I shout in agony,” he sneered back at her and she laughed.

Harry sat down in a large couch but the fire, staring at the red flames as he heard books being pulled out of bags and fingers flicking through pages in search of something.

 

.:X:.

 

He found himself enjoying Granger's company. Not in a oh-you're-so-funny-and-I-like-being-with-you kind of way. But he felt relaxed while he sat __ with her, as if it was okay for him to be there.

Over the year he had stopped hating Granger for the fact that she was Muggleborn. He had had to make himself see through that and 'adjust to the new way  of society' as his mother had called it. The only grudge he held towards __ her, and everyone else for that matter, was the way he and his friends and Housemates were treated. Like they didn't belong at Hogwarts and could go and rot in the dungeons for all they cared. That made him mad, beyond anything else. Because that was not mistreating  _him_ for  _his_ mistakes, it was looking down at every student with a green tie, even first years who had nothing to do what so ever with the war. And the fact that Granger could do something about that because of her position during and after the war, but just looked the other way made him boil with rage at times.

When he thought about it, the only reason why he was sitting by her side was because of __ the way she had approached him today. Like she was willing to give him another chance, even though she may not have realized it. And Draco was in no position to turn that down, no matter how much of his pride it would damage. He'd do it, be polite and get Granger to think __ that he was all grown up, and then maybe she would at least open her eyes and see all that was happening. He'd do it, for his Slytherins, because no matter how he argued, he was still the Slytherin Ice Prince.

“Malfoy, listen to this,” Granger interrupted his thoughts and he looked up at her. “ _It is believed that on the 13th of December, dark powers rise from their hiding place in the shadows to face the light that has_ _oppressed it and forced it down into the earth to rot. The night of the 13th is the most dangerous of all, as this night the endless battle between light and darkness begins._

“ _Lucia shall come in the night to defend the sun and stars, to shine through the dark and bring the breaking dawn.”_

“How does one bring the breaking dawn, exactly?” Draco stated after trying to digest those words.

“It's metaphoric, Malfoy.”

“I don't think so, Granger. I mean, if you look at the lyrics Flitwick gave us,” Draco scooped them up from his bag and unrolled them onto the table, “you see that they talk about this constant battle between night and day and so on in most of them. I mean look at this for example – ” he pointed at the song that they were supposed to start the ceremony with, “it basically mean _'Trollsejd and dark power, light you overpower. Bless the flames guard, who brings us protection'_.”

“'Trollsejd'?” Granger asked, confused.

“I looked that up, it's some old Swedish way of saying dark magic.”

“I can't believe you translated the whole scroll.” Granger sounded impressed as she looked over Draco's scroll of parchment, which had small neatly written notes all over it that he had graduallycollected when he wanted to remember a translation or point something out in the lyrics.

“I can't believe you haven't, I thought that was the first thing you would have done. I did in any case.”

“Ah, yes, well I thought the library held all theinformation that I needed, so I never really thought about looking at the lyrics.”

“Seriously? Well maybe it was just me then.”

“But it makes sense, don't you think?” Draco looked up,puzzled as Granger happily continued, “You are Santa Lucia. It's only logical that you should find answers in the lyricsof the ceremony, since you yourself play such a big role in it. I mean the way you grasped that song at your first try without knowing either the language or the melody shows that.” Draco didn't know if Granger was actually complimenting him or not, but hesettled for not, just in case.

“Maybe you're right. But still, it just sounds like some bad story about some kid saving the day with songs and candles and then living happily ever after,” he said sceptically.

“You realize that if not for the songs and candles you just summed up the story of Harry's life?” Granger pointed out in amusement. Potter, right on cue, turned around at the sound of his name and raised an eyebrow in question from his place in front of the fire.

“Oh Merlin, the irony.” Draco allowed himself to laugh, and laughed even more when Potter looked offended as if he thought that itwas him that Draco was laughing at. Granger justsmiledat the whole situation.

Right there and then Ron Weasley burst in the common room, looking angry and bothered.

“Harry!” he exclaimed as soon as he spotted his friend by the fire, “I just had an angry Ginny ranting about how McGonagall showed up all of a sudden and dragged you away and – ” he stoppedabruptly when he looked up and saw Granger and Draco and then he snapped. “Why the hell are you sitting with _him_ , Hermione?!”

Draco reckoned that the weasel was upset, that his little sister had wound him up so that he __ was likely to snap at anything, and  would much rather take out his aggression on Draco than his best friend. __ B ut old habits died hard, and Draco did not  just take such abuse.

“That best friend of yours let a bloody bookshelf fall on me in his absence which finally made McGonagall realize that he wasn’t doing his job properly. The reason your pitiful infant sister is upset is because now her beloved scarhead is required to be by my side all. The fucking. Time.”He pronounced the last words very preciselyto make sure that Weasel got the message. He blinked at Draco, like he didn't understand was he was saying.

“You're joking.”

“I have three witnesses, one who happens to be your girlfriend.”

Weasley's eyes turned to Granger, begging her to tell him that Draco was lying.

“He's telling the truth, Ron,” she confirmed.

“Bloody hell...”

“Anyway, I'm going togo and fetch my friends because I would like some lunch.” Draco rose from his seat and headed towards Pansy's and Millicent's dorm. The last thing he heard was Weasley asking his girlfriend just how the shelf had fallen upon Draco, hope apparentin his voice.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name “Lucia” comes from the Latin word lux, which means “light”. And funny enough the name “Lucifer”, which is the name of Satan, comes from the very same word. Why it is like that that, I have no idea.  
> The male form of the name “Lucia” however is, hold your socks, “Lucius”. Coincident, I don't think so. It's moments like these that I love our Queen (heart).

_Sankta Lucia, ljusklara hägring,_

_Sprid i vår vinternatt glas av din fägring._

_Drömmar med vingesus, under oss sia,_

_Tänd dina vita ljus, Sankta Lucia_

_. . ._

_Santa Lucia, light clear mirage,_

_Spread though our winter night splendor of your beauty_

_Dreams with wings murmur, under us predict_

_Ignite your white candles, Santa Lucia_

“ _Sankta Lucia” (“Santa Lucia”), Sigrid Elmblad_

 

Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode and Ron Weasley were all standing in the entrance of the Great Hall earning more than a few puzzled looks.

“So,” Weasley broke the silence and asked what everyone was thinking, “what do we do?”

“It should be okay if we sit at our usual tables and Potter just looks over from time to time, I think.” Draco mused out loud, for the first time in history not sneering when talking to Weasley.

“You realize that won't work forever, right?” Granger pointed out.

“Yes, but it'll do for now.” And with that Draco started walking to the Slytherin table with Pansy and Millicent just a step behind him.

Theo and Daphne were already sitting at their usual places and had been shooting them questioning looks since they had __ entered the hall.

“Okay, I have to know. In what universe do you three enter the Great Hall with the Golden Trio?” Daphne demanded as soon as they had taken a seat. Draco looked around to see if anyone was eavesdropping.

“Since the goblet named Potter my protector and he failed to be there when a bookshelf decided to topple down on me this morning.McGonagall realizedthat I have to be in his eyesight all the time.” Draco drawled.

“You're joking,” Daphne said.

“A bookshelf? In the library? But that's impossible! Those shelves are spelled in place with permanent sticking charms just to prevent them from falling,” Theo exclaimed, making all eyes turn to him. How he knew about the sticking charms on the bookshelves was beyond Draco.

“Well, maybe it fell on purpose,” Draco snapped.

Theo's eyes widened as he understood what Draco was referring too.

“Still, a _bookshelf_. I was expecting dark creatures and demons and possessed bodies, not bookshelves,” Daphne mocked.

“I think this is just the beginning,” Draco said thoughtfully.

 

As the conversation continued, Pansy stayed unusually quiet. Normally  she would have a comment for everything, but she hadn't spoken a word since they had left the Tower and Draco was worried.

“Pansy, darling, you're awfully quiet,” he pointed out softly. She didn't meet his eyes, instead staring at her food that she had barely touched.

“Does it, perhaps,” Draco continued, “have something to do with that bookshelf and what McGonagall said?”

“You know that's why,” she said in a small voice.

“And yet, the entire time that you actually were in Potter's eyesight he didn't give you one disapproving or disgusted look! I checked.”

“But it's more complicated than that, Draco!” she hissed, “He's going to be around _all the time_ now, how am I suppose to cope?”

“You can apologize to him. I did, in a coldly worded letter, but it was no less an apology, and he accepted it. I really think that he hasn't given you much thought actually. He was gobsmacked when I pointed out how you have been treated.”

“I don't know if a 'sorry' will do, Draco...”

“Hey, you don't have to listen to me. I'm just pointing out that he is a sentimental Gryffindor who will forgive about anyone that means it. I mean, he accepted my icyapology.”

“Maybe, I’ll think about it.” And then they dropped the subject.

 

.:X:.

 

“Why did you come here with those Slytherins, Harry?” Ginny fired away before he hadeven had a chance to sit down.

“Er...”

“Wait. This is one of those 'I can't tell you' things, right?”

“Eh, no?”

“So this secret thing has something to do with Malfoy?” Ginny's quick conclusions and questions were too much for Harry sinceshe saw right through him and he was afraid that he might say something he shouldn't.

“Knock it off, Ginny!” Ron snapped, apparentlystill a bit upset about earlier.

“I just want to know, Ron!”

“But you can't and you won't, so stop bothering Harry, or any other of us for that matter!” Ron was shouting now, and a few fifth-year Hufflepuffs looked over at them to see if there was going to be a fight.

“Calm down, Ron.” Hermione soothed and took Ron's hand, rubbing it with her thumb.

Harry looked at them, thinking __ how perfect they where for each other, and he felt a stab in his gut that he and Ginny weren't like that. He pushed the thought away and turned to Ginny with the hope of calming her down, but found that she was completely ignoring all of them and had turned to talk to a classmate next to her.

Harry sighed and looked over at Malfoy , seated across the hall. He was talking to Parkinson who was staring down at her plate looking extremely upset. Somehow Harry got the feeling that it was his fault that Parkinson  was distraught and made his stomach twist at the thought that he had upset more than one person today.

Harry continued to watch Malfoy as he ate – to do his duty of course – and saw how the Slytherin moved. He ate with elegance, not at all like Ron who shovelled in food in his mouth, and he smirked like he was the king of the world almost all the time. But, at small moments, his smirk faded and he smiled, a glimpse of a real smile, and Harry found that he couldn't look away from Malfoy's face when he did. He caught himself staring at Malfoy, waiting for him to smile like that after awhile, and felt like slapping himself.

He took a mouthful of food and shoved it in his mouth, to demonstrate something to himself,  though he was not precisely sure what.

“Wow mate, what did that potato do to you?” Ron joked across the table.

“It was on my plate, it bound to be eaten.”

“True, but you just sat there for like ten minutes, not even looking at it and then just out of the blue – _bamm!_ Potato: dead.”

“I can't believe this conversation.” Hermione rolled her eyes at them and Harry and Ron broke out in laughter.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, the name “Staffan” didn't just pop out of nowhere from my side. No he also has a part in the Lucia-tradition.  
> So called “Staffan-songs”, that I have also quoted (see chapter four) goes back long before even Lussi. It was young boys, usually students it was said, that walked around and sang songs for money and booze. In the songs, there are his endless talk about Staffan and his horses, and some dude thought that there was some pre-Christian horse-cult that lied behind that, where that is true or not I don't know, and don't really care either to be honest.
> 
> Aside from boys, that later in the context of Lucia came to be “stjärngossar” (that is “starboys” that I chose to translate it to, and is using in this fic), there is also a tradition of a so called “lussebrid” (“lussebrud” in Swedish) that comes from the small villages.  
> She is a unmarried young girl (i.e. virgin) that is chosen by the village, and becomes the main person in the local version of Lucia (it's not called Lucia yet though).

_I varje hjärta armt och mörkt_

_sänd du en stråle blid._

_En stråle av Guds kärleks ljus_

_i signad juletid._

_. . ._

_In every heart poor and dark_

_you send a gentle gleam._

_A gleam of the love of Gods light_

_in blessed Christmas time._

“ _Nu tändas tusen juleljus_ _” (“Now light up thousand Christmas candles”), Emmy Köhler_




 

Harry had kept close to Malfoy all day. When he had gotten up that morning he had showered and dressed and then walked to the dorm where Malfoy slept to make sure that he would accompany him to breakfast. Because McGonagall said that he should watch over Malfoy  _all the time_ , and he translated that to as soon as he got out of bed till he went to bed.

Luckily, Malfoy and Nott were just getting ready to go and have breakfast as well, or more precisely Nott was __ packing their bags while Malfoy stared out the window. He didn't even turn when Harry knocked or Nott opened the door.

“Ah, here to prevent any more falling bookshelves then?” was Nott's greeting. “Draco, Potter is here to pick you up!” he called and made it sound so wrong, in so many ways. Apparently Malfoy thought so too, since he turned around at that and grabbed his bag that Nott was holding out to him with a “Shut up” before storming off.

Nott just smiled and stalked after him, and Harry did the same.

Harry had gotten Ron up with him, and he was waiting in the common room. At the sight of the blond storming down the stairs, Harry saw him sigh before heaving himself up from the armchair where he was dozing comfortably.

Harry heard him mumble something like “Who gets up at this hour, really?” when the two of them walked after the Slytherins to the Great Hall.

 

The day followed in a similar manner to the prior one, Harry and his friends followed the Slytherins, but always stayed about ten meters away, never talking to each other.

It was after their last class when Malfoy first approached him.

“I'm going back to the Tower because I didn't bring my lyrics with me this morning, and you're coming with me,” he announced and then turned around, walking away and Harry had to run after him to catch up.

“Really Malfoy, you could be more polite,” he pointed out.

“And you could have been there to stop the whole Nordic folklore section from crushing me.”

“You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“You couldn't be more right.”

They walked quickly through the corridors. Luckily it wasn't far between their last class and the Tower, so they got there in five minutes. Malfoy clambered up __ the stairs in a hurry and Harry followed, trying hard not to stare at the Slytherin's arse  when it was at eye-level.

“Why are you practically running?”

“Because I don't want to be late,” he turned his head around and snapped.

“We have twenty minutes, how slow are you planning on walking?” Harry exclaimed as they stepped inside Malfoy's dorm. Malfoy didn't look at him and instead started to throw around his things in search.

“I had it yesterday...” he muttered to himself, like it was strange that he couldn't find it. Harry had a bad feeling about this.

“Where did you see it last?” Harry asked carefully.

“In my bag! I put it in my bag after that researching session with Granger yesterday.”

“Maybe it's with the books that you borrowed?”

Malfoy looked up from where he was kneeling beside his drawer and slowly stood. He walked to the pile of books, never taking his eyes off Harry. Harry fidgeted uncomfortably under his gaze, and he looked down just for a moment as he pulled out a familiar scroll.

“How did you know?” he asked suspiciously.

“I didn't, just guessed.”

Malfoy didn't look at all like he believed him, but he dropped it oddly enough and just said “Let's go,” and pushed past Harry.

“Malfoy!” Harry ran after the quickly stridingSlytherin and caught his wrist as they entered the common room. Something bolted through Harry from where he was touching Malfoy and he suddenlydidn't know if he wanted to let go or pull closer. Instead he turned Malfoy around so that they were face to face and kept his grip, in case Malfoywanted to run away again.

“There's something you're not telling me,” he said slowly and Malfoy didn't even look at him.

“I – I just have a bad feeling, alright?” he hissed. “I just want to get to the choir room as soon as possible.”

“Why?”

“I don't know, okay!” He broke Harry's gripand started walking, or half running more precisely, and Harry could somehow see that Malfoy thought of himself as pathetic. If it had been the other way around he would have called Harry the same for being frightened of something that he couldn't name, and clearly he thought the same of himself.

But Harry didn't. He understood the feeling of being scared but not being able to  pinpoint the source of that fear, to just have the feeling something bad lurked around the corner . He wanted to tell Malfoy to listen to his guts, but he didn't think that he would listen to him right now.

They walked more quickly now than before, and Malfoy almost jumped at every student that came around the corner. And there were many. Harry guessed that they were all heading to their dormitories to drop off their bags and then to head to __ dinner since __ it was that time of the evening.

“Harry!” someone called and he turned around to see Ginny running towards him. “Aren't you going to dinner?” she asked.

“What? No, I have another lesson.”

“You know, all the eighth years are eating dinner quite late these days, why is that?”

“Oh, that's because we all have another lesson, which I need to go to right now, actually.” Harry was itching to get away, because if Malfoy felt the need to get to the choir room as quickly as possible, Harry felt that he needed to make that happen.

“Harry, why are you walking with Malfoy?” Ginny asked finally, as if that was her real question. Harry turned around to find that Malfoy wasn't anywhere in sight.

“Shit!” he burst out. “Er, Ginny, I'm really late. I'll talk to you later.” And with that,he ran in the direction of the choir room, praying that it was all okay, and deep down knowing it wasn't.

 

.:X:.

 

Ever since he had __ found that he didn't have his scroll with him, Draco had felt something was out of place. Theo wouldn't have forgotten it when he packed Draco's bag this morning, for one because it was already in his bag, and two because Theo always seemed to know exactly what Draco needed to have with him every day. Sometimes he knew __ even better than Draco himself. And therefore, it was strange that his scroll wasn't in his bag.

He wanted to get to the choir room as quickly as possible, and he didn't know why, and that irritated him more than anything. He felt like something was waiting for him, out to get him, and it was ridiculous! It was like Pansy, and her unreasonable fear of Potter, he suddenly knew how she felt.

It reminded him of the war, to have the Dark Lord living in his house, never knowing what was going to happen and whether he was safe or not in his own home. It felt like that.

 

Suddenly he found himself in the middle of an empty corridor, quiet as death. The torches, one by one started to burn down. From the other end of the corridor darkness started  coming towards him, slowly and steady.

Draco was paralyzed  where he was standing  looking at the darkness that was about to consume him. The thoughts running around his head sounded like;  _I knew it!_ and  _Why isn't someone pulling me away?_

And then it hit him. He was alone. Potter wasn't with him. And just like that, all he could see was darkness.

_All alone, are you?_

What? Who said that? Draco wanted to scream out, but his lips wouldn't open. A cold breath ran down his neck, and he turned around to find nothing there.

_So you are alone?_

No, he wanted to say. Potter would be there, of course he would. But why had he left him at all?

_Of course you are. You're always alone._

No, he wasn't. He had friends, people he could trust. His hand finally reacted, and he reached for his wand in his pocket.

_You're always alone._

Something hard and cold hit him, knocking the breath out of him and he fell to ground.

_You know why? Because you aren't worth protecting._

"... no." he breathed out, wand forgotten, just trying to get the voice to stop. It was wrong. He was important, he was loved –

_No, you're not. You aren't worth anything, Draco._

"You're wrong." He tried to shut the voice out, desperately wanting to ignore it, putting his hands to his ears.

_Pathetic, you're so pathetic._

_Who would want anything to do with you?_

_You're nothing but a burden._

_Who would love you?_

"No, no, no ,no."

_No one loves you, why would they?_

_You are not worthy to live._

_Not worth protecting._

_That's why he let that shelf fall down on you, wasn't it?_

"No, no, NO!"

Strong hands touched him, pulling him, trying to drag him into the darkness, and Draco screamed and __ pushed, trying to get away, but he had no control over his body anymore, with hands shaking him, and that voice, so cold and harsh.

_Who would love you?_

 

.:X:.

 

Harry ran as fast as his feet could take him, cursing himself for letting Draco out of his __ sight. This was all his fault. He shouldn't have let Ginny distract him.

H e stopped dead at the sight before him.

It was a wall, right in front of him,  a wall of darkness . With an unsteady hand he tried to touch it, and saw how his hand disappeared and still he felt __ nothing but cold.

Malfoy was in there, he was sure.

Without thinking, he drew his wand and cast the first spell that came to mind.

" _Expecto Patronum!_ " Harry shouted and saw his stag light up the darkness so that he could see.

"Perfect," he mumbled. "Well, come on! Malfoy is in there, we have to find him!" he snapped at his stag and ran blindly into the dark with his Patronus by his side.

"... no, no, no, no, no – " Harry heard someone say,  and the words grew louder and louder as he ran towards the source.

In the blue light that his Patronus cast, he saw a black-cloaked figure with platinum blond hair curled up in a tiny ball on the stone floor, shaking furiously.

"Malfoy," he breathed and fell on his knees.

"... no, no, NO!" Malfoy was shouting, and Harry saw how he had his hands covering his ears like he was hearing something dreadful. But the corridor was quiet, except for the sounds that came from Malfoy.

Desperately, Harry tried to get Malfoy to look at him, to show him that there was nothing to be afraid of, but as soon as he touched Malfoy's shoulders, he screamed with a cry that made Harry's blood freeze in his veins, and the blond pulled away from him.

"Malfoy!" he shouted and gripped harder, not letting Malfoy go no matter what. He knew if he did he would never be able to get Malfoy to wake up from wherever his mind had gone.

Malfoy was crazy, screaming, kicking, punching Harry, desperately fighting to get away, and Harry pulled him as close as he could while Malfoy's hands were pushing against his chest.

Harry  noticed how Malfoy’s eyes were clenched shut  and Harry shook him, trying to get them to open.

"Malfoy!" he screamed again, "Open your fucking eyes! I'm here! I'm sorry I left you, but I'm here now. Come back to me. Open your eyes!" He cupped one of Malfoy's cheeks and forced his head up. "Look at me Malfoy. Open your eyes. I'm here, you're not alone."

At Harry's skin to skin touch he felt the same rush as before, and Malfoy stopped pushing him. He felt Malfoy's fists curl in his sweater and he couldn't look away from that pale face, only inches away from him. He felt Malfoy's breath on his face, smelling like apples as Malfoy breathed heavily into Harry's mouth.

Slowly, oh so slowly, grey eyes opened, unsure and searching, like it was the first time they opened and saw the world, and Harry found he couldn't look away from them. They were beautiful, just like Malfoy's voice, clear like water, deep as an ocean, and bright as thunder.

Trembling, Malfoy dropped his head onto Harry's shoulder, and before Harry could register it, he was pulling Malfoy close, hugging him tightly. He inhaled __ Malfoy's scent, laying his cheek on his head and feeling the soft and smooth hair, and Harry felt he could sit like that forever.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, somewhere along the way, the swedes made a connection between this lusse-celebration that they had and Santa Lucia, that had actually nothing to do about it from the beginning. Though, I think it makes sense that they dragged her in, because her name means “the light one” or likewise, she died on the 13th, and she was a Christian, so this is just me speculating without any facts behind me at all, but it seemed to me like the church formed this tradition to become somewhat Christian to have a bit more control of it. Because before, this was not a Christian celebration, hell no, priests where just like “It's Lussi!!! Waaaaaah!!!” (lol). And anyways, “Lucia” and “Lussi” sound alike, at least it does for me and the way I pronounce it, but maybe it's just my Swedish inheritance and the Swedish wicked way of pronouncing “u” that makes it like that. (Seriously though, my English teacher comes from England, and he can't pronounce the letter “u” like swedes do, the whole class laughed their arses of when he tried XD)

_Jag såg en stjärna falla,_

_det var inatt när alla sov._

_Jag tror jag önskade_

_att du var nära._

 

_För en minut sen brann den_

_för en sekund sen försvann den,_

_var det bara jag som såg?_

_. . ._

_I saw a star fall,_

_it was tonight when every body slept._

_I think I wished;_

_that you where close._

 

_For a minute then it burned,_

_for a second then it disappeared,_

_was it only me that saw it?_

“ _Tänd et ljus” (“Lighten a candle”), Triad_




 

Harry didn't know how long they sat there, but after a while he noticed that it was no longer dark around them. Instead the torches burned again like they should and his Patronus was gone. Yet Malfoy was still trembling in his arms.

"Malfoy," he mumbled softly, "I think it's okay now." Malfoy's head flew up from where it had been resting, and he looked into __ Harry's eyes with a gaze that was unreadable.

"Right," he said and pulled away. Harry regretfully let __ him go, not quite understanding why he didn't want to. Malfoy was on his feet in the matter of seconds, and after some thought he held out his hand to help Harry up. Harry took it, and he was pulled up with such force that his and Malfoy's chests were slammed together when he stumbled forward. For a moment their eyes met, before Malfoy stepped away.

"I want to get going." Malfoy's façade back in place, his voice stern.

"Of course," Harry answered.

They walked in silence, Harry gazing at Malfoy from time to time, just to make sure that he was okay of course. His face was blank, unreadable every time Harry looked, and he  gazed steadfastly straight ahead . Harry was itching to ask what exactly __ had happened, but it was clear that Malfoy was uncomfortable with the whole thing, so he didn't. And yet, he couldn't help but feel somewhat hurt when Malfoy had stepped away, even though it was the natural thing to do. It was probably his own guilt, he decided. Because he somehow hoped that Malfoy wouldn't hate him for letting this happen. Even though, Harry thought, he already hated him, so what did it matter?

Harry opened the door to the choir room and Malfoy pushed past him to get in first, even though Harry was going to let him anyway. The whole room turned towards them as they entered and for a second, Harry hesitated.

"Sorry we're late, Professor, but we got, ah, distracted."

"Oh, I understand. I trust everything is well?" Flitwick asked and Harry was taken aback that there was no detention or punishment for such a late arrival. But then again, he thought, it was probably because they were Lucia and Staffan, and the two of them coming late to class  was taken as a sign that something had happened.

"Fantastic," Malfoy snapped and stalked across the room to stand beside his friends, leaving Harry awkwardly in the doorway. But he also walked to stand beside his friends, deciding that it was for the best.

"What happened?" Ron and Hermione both whispered.

"Later," he promised, but in reality he didn't know if he wanted to tell them about the whole thing. The way Malfoy had seemed so scared and helpless, the way he had felt in Harry's arms, how he hadn't wanted to let him go. It seemed like a dream, far away from the choir room that was __ filled with other people and where it wasn't acceptable for Harry to even touch Malfoy.

Not that __ he was exactly __ hugging him before per se. No, it was more like he was holding him together and comforting him. Making him feel safe.

"Now, when we're all set and ready, let's begin with the usual song." Flitwick woke Harry up from his thoughts and he pulled out his scroll because he, everybody else, didn't know any of the songs by heart.

"Professor," he heard Malfoy's voice say, and he snapped his head around to look at the blond who had his eyes on their professor. "Could we sing another song to begin with instead? I – " he broke off as if __ his reason for the request was foolish. "I need it," he finally said.

Beside Harry, Ron looked like he was about to break out in laughter so __ Harry stamped on his foot, hard. He didn't want Ron to laugh at Malfoy, not now after what he had just been through, and Ron hissed in pain.

"What the fuck, Harry?" he whispered.

Harry gave him a dark look before turning to Flitwick, to see what he was going to say.

"Of course, Mr Malfoy, what song?" the professor said and Harry let out a breath that he hadn't realized that he had been holding. Malfoy looked shocked that Flitwick had agreed without argument, but he snapped out of it a second later and looked through his scroll.

"Seventh song."

"But we haven't sung that song yet!" Hermione interrupted, scowling at her parchment, and several heads around the room nodded in agreement.

"Then don't sing," Malfoy suggested with a sneer, and with an __ approving nod from Flitwick, Malfoy began to sing.

 

” _Det strålar en stjärna förunderligt blid,_

_i öster på himlen hon står._

_Hon lyst över världen i oro och strid_

_i nära två tusende år._

_Och när dagen blir mörk, och när snön faller vit,_

_då strider hon närmre, då kommer hon hit._

_Och där ljuset är, där är det jul.”_

 

Harry faintly wondered if Malfoy had sung this before and at least knew the words, or if he had just picked it up __ and opened his mouth like he did the first time Harry had ever heard him sing.

Suddenly he found himself, and everyone around him, humming with Malfoy's voice, following his melody like he was showing everyone the way and they were all following __ without questioning it.

By the end of the song, people were looking down at their scrolls trying to pronounce the words. Everybody was singing along, and everybody was looking at the words expect Harry. Harry was staring at Malfoy. He was watching the way Draco kept his gaze focused on the distance, how he held his head high, how sure of himself he looked and how __ Harry had the urgent desire to touch him.

 

” _Är ljus! Allas ögon de strålar som bäst,_

_och stjärnorna tindrar som mest,_

_och där ljuset är, där är jul, där är jul.”_

 

It was only Flitwick's applause that made Harry realize they had all stopped singing and he looked quickly __ away from Malfoy.

"Magnificent, absolutely magnificent!" Flitwick praised. "You were all outstanding!" At that, most students blushed as if they had actually sang alone. "An absolutely fantastic proposition on your, Mr Malfoy. Just see how he was able to lead you all into singing, even if you didn't know the song or without even realizing that you were singing! If we continue like this, we have the ceremony in the bag." Flitwick was truly delighted, and Harry guessed that he was planning on making __ Malfoy a permanent member of his choir after this was all __ over.

The rest of the session came and went, and Harry found himself constantly looking at Malfoy, trying to get him to meet his gaze.

 

.:X:.

 

Dinner had been awful. Ginny had been mad at Harry for running away from her like that. And Ron and Hermione – who he still hadn't told about what happened – wanted to know why he had left Ginny as well, and it took him quite some time to get them to realize that it was related to him and Malfoy being late to choir practice.

Then they had immediately changed the __ subject, furiously __ feeding Ginny's suspicion.

So it was quite a relief when Malfoy decided to have a quick dinner, and Harry flew up from the bench with a quick excuse. Ron and Hermione decided to stay and just Neville, bless him, accompanied Harry to the Tower.

"So what  _did_ happen?" he asked when they had settled down by the fire. Harry sighed. Apparently Neville wanted to know just as much as the rest of them and with a quick look at Malfoy, who was sitting at the table where he had been sitting with Hermione the day before, he looked back at Neville and started talking.

Harry didn't exactly know why, but he told Neville __ everything. Even the parts that he was going to censor, like how he remembered what Malfoy's breath tasted like.

"Harry," Neville said uncertainly, "it kind of sounds like you're, don't take this the wrong way, but attracted to Malfoy."

"There's a  _right_ way to get that?!" Harry exclaimed indignantly.

"I'm sorry! But I saw the way you were staring at Malfoy the whole time during choir, especially when he sang. And it's like the way Ron stared at Hermione before they got together."

"I have a girlfriend, Neville!"

"I know! Look Harry, I'm __ not trying to offend you or mess with your head. I just pointed out that you're acting like someone that's attracted to someone, but denies it." Neville blushed and ran his hand through his hair, looking extremely awkward.

Harry groaned and let his head fall to his hands that were resting on his knees.

"But I do love Ginny," Harry defended weakly.

"I'm not saying you don't, but you have to be honest with yourself."

"Yeah..."

"Potter?" Harry looked up at the call, to find Parkinson standing in front of him, looking uncertain. "Can I talk to you?"

"Er, sure." Harry sat up and looked at her.

"In private," she said sternly.

“Oh, I just remembered that I have a book in my dorm that I need to get, if you would excuse me.” Neville stood up and walked away and Parkinson looked at him, with an almost smile but certainly thankful look before she slowly sat down in the armchair where Neville had been sitting.

“I – ” she began, looking down at her hands in her lap, “I wanted to apologize for that thing I said last term, I –” she broke off.

“It's okay, I forgive you.” At that, her head flew up and she glared at him.

“How could you say that so easily?” she protested. “It was horrible, and yet you just say 'it's _okay_ ' just like that?!”

“Do you want me to be angry at you?”

“No!” she exclaimed, looking terrified that he actually would be.

“Let's just say that I've been through worse than you saying that the student body should hand me over. And at the time I had a lot to think about, you can imagine, so afterwards I kind of forgot about it.”

Parkinson groaned loudly, something Harry couldn't imagine her doing, and let her face fall into her hands, sitting like Harry had done just moments ago. “And here I've been frightened for my life that you were coming to get me for half a year,” she whined.

“I'm not the kind of person that goes out to ‘get people’, like you put it.”

“I realize that, Draco told me several times. Theo also for that matter, but I guess that if the whole school was mad at me for what I did, I reckoned that you where too.”

“I'm sorry about that, by the way. For what Ron and the others did to you.” Parkinson slowly looked up at him, eyeing him suspiciously. “I mean, Malfoy was right, and I'm sorry that I let it go on for so long.”

“You're a very odd person, Harry Potter. I try to hand you over to your arch-enemy and you apologize that your followers are mad at me for what I did and are seeking revenge.”

“Ah, yes well – ”

“But thank you,” she cut him off. “For forgiving me.”

“It was nothing.”

“Maybe not to you.” And Harry saw a hesitant little smile on her lips, a kind of smile that made the ugliest person look flawless, and she stood up and walked to sit next to Malfoy. Harry watched them, how Malfoy looked up at her, how a smile broke out across his face and how he hugged her, and Harry felt a stab of something in his guts. Something that he didn't even want to name. Because he was afraid that it was what he thought it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation of that song Draco sang:
> 
> A star is shining remarkably gentle,  
> in the east of the sky she stands.  
> She shine over the world in concern and struggle  
> in two thousand years.  
> And when the day becomes dark, and when the snow fall so white,  
> then she comes closer, then she comes here.  
> And where the light is, there is Christmas.
> 
> (…)
> 
> Is light! Everyone's eyes are gleaming so bright,  
> and the stars and twinkling the most,  
> and where the light is, there is Christmas, there is Christmas.
> 
> Original song: “Det strålar en stjärna” (“A star is shining”) by Jeanna Oterdahl and Ruben Liljefors.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The way Lucia is celebrated now day's is that a girl (usually) is either chosen in a vote or randomly in a ruffle to be Lucia. Some think that Lucia can also be a boy, I'm one of those people, but it's traditionally a girl.  
> He or she that becomes Lucia usually, by tradition, wear a white gown, that looks like a nightgown and sometimes are called (roughly translated) “Lucia nightgown”, and she has a kind of crown with real or electric candles and a red ribbon around her waste so symbolize blood.
> 
> But in a Lucia-train, that it is called when Lucia, with her tärnor and starboys that accompany her, Lucia usually doesn't sing. That is because, my mother tells me, the songs are about Lucia, and she can't sing about herself. So in big Lucia celebrations (like the one that I've linked below) Lucia doesn't sing, she just walks in, lead the train in and out, and stand in front while the choir of tärnor and starboys kicks arse.
> 
> Take out the space in between (I was going to link a picture of just a Lucia, but I couldn't find a good one, so here is last years Lucia-train that was shown on TV. I actually despise that one, because there are Swedish celebrities that steal the show that shouldn't be there. But look and listen to the first song, it shows very well traditional Swedish Lucia. Watch the whole thing too if you like, you can also skip the part with the old Swedish actor that talks like forever and just listen to the songs (sang by the choir), it's quite good ^^)  
> www .youtube .com/watch?v=Et_ZXk3zzpg&feature=related

_Tomorrow shall be my dancing day;_

_I would my true love did so chance_

_To see the legend of my play,_

_To call my true love with my dance;_

 

_Singing oh! my love, oh! my love, my love, my love,_

_This have I done for my true love._

 

“ _Tomorrow shall be my dancing day”, William B. Sandays, John Gardner_




 

It was the same night, after the corridor incident, that Draco got his first nightmare.

He was tired but somehow happy when he had gone to bed. He had seen how Pansy had approached __ Potter in the common room, watched Longbottom get up and Pansy take his chair. He'd had __ an excellent view of Potter's profile from where he was sitting and he had seen how Pansy dropped her head into her hands, how Potter's face was __ apologetic and surprised. And then, after some time, Pansy had stood up and __ come over to sit next to him.

“Potter's crazy!” she exclaimed.

“I'm sorry, is that news to you?”

“And you were right,” she said, ignoring his comment. “He forgave me just like that.”

“Told you.” He had hugged her then, the happy and relieved smile on her face warming him inside.

“So you did.” She laughed. “But you still need to wait for me for breakfast.”

“Damn.”

He had been so relieved and glad for Pansy as she __ sat there with him the whole evening,  even partaking in Draco’s discussions with Granger as they studied together. The look on Granger's face the first time Pansy had spoken directly to her, without a sneer on her face, was priceless and Draco had to bite his tongue in order to __ not laugh out loud.

 

He had gone to bed with a smile on his face, which was unusual for him, but as soon as he had fallen asleep in his dark dorm unpleasant and terrifying dreams had come.

He woke up with a jerk, cold and sweaty, with his heart hammering hard against his ribcage. And the worst thing was that he couldn't, for all the treasures in Gringotts, remember what he had dreamt. It all just seemed like a faded memory. The feeling was still with him, but he didn't know what had __ caused it.

The clock said that it was one in the morning, and with a sigh Draco tried to get back to sleep.

He tossed and turned in bed for what seemed like hours, and felt how he was too tired to stay awake, but too tired to fall asleep. When his clock said thirteen past three in the morning, Draco gave up and turned on his lamp and pulled out a book that he read until breakfast.

 

He watched as Corner woke up an hour before he and Theo usually got up, and how the Ravenclaw  jumped behind the door as he realized Draco was awake. Draco just rolled his eyes at Corner's paranoid expression, pathetic really. Corner moved quietly and slowly, as if sudden movements would offend Draco.

“Really, Corner,” he said, making the Ravenclaw jump again, which was a bit satisfying. “Neither I nor Theo have done anything to you for half a year, do you really think we're going to hex you first thing in the morning?” he asked from where he was sitting in his bed.

“You never know with Slytherins, now do you?” he fired back.

“No, _you_ never know about Slytherins, and that's because _you_ never bothered to learn. You, just like everybody else, grouped us all into the evil madmen category.”

“But you are, a –– ”

“Then why, if I'm so evil, have I been chosen as a warrior of light?” Draco cut him off.

Corner blinked at him then mumbled, “You probably put a spell to the Goblet or __ something ...”

“Please,” Draco drawled, “if you think about that for even just a second you'll find that it's absurd, you're a Ravenclaw for Merlin's sake. Think for once, will you?”

“I don't have to take shit from you.”

“But I have to take it from the entire school. That seems fair...” Draco mused.

“Why are you awake anyway?” Corner asked in a tight voice.

“Because I can't fucking sleep because of this fucking Lucia-shit, you bloody Neanderthal!”

Corner stormed out of the room, and came back fifteen minutes later, because __ because as Ravenclaw’s were wont to do, he had forgotten his bag.

Draco sighed and shifted back, slammed his head against the pillow, and stared up the ceiling waiting for Theo to wake up.

 

.:X:.

 

Malfoy  had behaved oddly all day . He looked like he hadn't slept all night, and yet he didn't close his eyes even once. Harry noticed that he had managed to stay awake during Magical History which __ was unusual for anybody that wasn't Hermione.

When they had come back to the common room for the evening he had sat down at the now usual table with Hermione and Parkinson. But after about ten minutes, Harry had heard Parkinson's voice complaining loudly.

“Draco! You can't even read properly! Go to sleep!”

“I. _Can't_.” he snapped.

“Maybe you can just sit down on the sofa and close your eyes for a minute or two? Just rest for a little?” Hermione suggested softly.

“I never thought I'd see the day when you two ganged up against me.”

“Me neither. Now go sit at that empty spot next to Potter.” Parkinson shoved him forwards.

Ron, who hadn't been following the conversation like Harry had, looked up in surprise from the chessboard  opposite the couch __ where he was kicking Neville's arse, when Malfoy dropped down beside Harry.

“What are you doing here?” he asked offensively.

“Fuck off, Weasley,” was all Malfoy said before he let his head fall back against the couch, showing off his pale throat in a way that would have made a vampire's mouth water.

Ron shot Harry  a questioning look, but he shrugged and since Malfoy wasn't actually saying anything, Ron seemed to  decide to let him be, and went back to the game .  Though Neville kept shooting looking at Harry, as if to confirm something, and it was getting on Harry’s nerves.

Harry kept his eyes firmly on the chessboard between his two friends, and restrained himself for turning his head to look at Malfoy beside him, even when the Slytherin started to breathe deeply, like he had fallen asleep.

Suddenly he felt a weight against his shoulder, and he turned his head to find Malfoy resting his head  there . The blond was sound asleep, and  obviously wasn’t aware of what he was doing , and Harry felt himself flush and his heart beat furiously.

“He probably hasn't slept well,” Neville said andHarry looked up to find both his friends looking at him and Malfoy.

“Or else he would never be caught dead like that.” Ron laughed.

Harry was debating with himself if he should let Malfoy rest on his shoulder like that or if he should push him away. He looked down again at Malfoy and couldn't help but notice __ how his lips were slightly parted __ and how blond even his eyelashes where. He looked so vulnerable when he was asleep, and Harry felt a  sudden, inexplicable, and slightly unwanted d esire to put an arm around him and pull him even closer.

Thankfully, he was interrupted before he could even stop himself  committing such an act of insanity. U nfortunately, the interruption was not one of the good sort.

“Harry!” a high-pitched, out of place, female voice shouted, making Harry jump and Malfoy jerk awake as his grey eyes flew up and looked around as ifto question what the bloody hell was going on.

Harry wished  he had an answer for Draco’s unspoken question why Ginny Weasley was standing at the entrance of the Eighth Year’s common room. Her face was livid as she stared at Harry and Malfoy.

“Ginny! What are you doing here?” Harry stood up and walked towards her, not knowing what he should do when he got there.

“What are _you_ doing is more like it! Letting Malfoy sleep on your shoulder like that!”

“How the hell did you even get in here?!” Harry asked, bewildered and deliberately ignored her statement.

“Er...” Michael Corner hesitated beside Ginny.

“You let her in?” Harry was furious.

“She threatened me!” Corner exclaimed.

“Could you all just shut the fuck up?” Malfoy groaned from the couch. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”

“Then go to bed, you Slytherin git,” Ginny snapped.

“You shouldn't even be here, Mini-Weasel. If any of us told McGonagall it could cost you more than just detention.”

“You wouldn't dare.”

“Wanna try me? _Leave,_ ” he said with a low dark voice that would have made Snape proud.

“ _Fine_! Harry, walk me out?” It wasn't really a question. Really more of a demand, but Harry had to refuse even then.

“I – I can't, Ginny. I'm –”

Ginny's eyes widened as she looked at him, and a furious fire started to burn in her eyes.

“Fuck you, Harry.” And with that, she stormed out.

“What did I tell you about bothering to _think_ before you draw conclusions?” It took Harry some time to realize that it was Corner that Malfoy was talking to.

“Fuck you, Malfoy.”

“Because if you had _used_ that wonderful Ravenclaw brain of yours, you wouldn't have let your guard down and this would probably never have happened,” he drawled and Harry had no idea what they where talking about. “Oh, and twenty points from Gryffindor for sneaking into the Eighth Years Tower.” With that he got up and gave Nott who was sitting in a corner of the room a “I'm going to bed” and then went up the stairs.

 

His brain was full of fleeting thoughts by the time he went to bed that night… L ike how he had completely forgotten about Ginny the whole day, how the thought of Malfoy's sleeping face had __ made his stomach flip, and why the hell he still wanted to hold the blond in his arms.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But Lucia isn't something that is only held in church and sent on TV, no it much bigger than that. People go Lucia in their homes, the children for the parents usually, every school has a Lucia-train, it happens at work and some city's has a big Lucia-celebration also.  
> And let's not forget kindergartens. Oh, I remember, almost every girl ran around with a electric Lucia-crowns, that hurts like hell btw, and with a electric candle in their hand (that usually just tärnor and perhaps starboys should have) and had glitter instead of a red ribbon around the waste, and all the guys where starboys, that goes around with a paper-cone with stars on, on their heads and a stick with a big golden star, or as small santas or ginger-men. And we all ran around and sang of key and all the parents went like “awwwwwwwwww” and took a million pictures and the staff were in agony.
> 
> That's Lucia for you XD

_Natten var stor och stum,_

_nu hörs dess vingar_

_I alla tysta rum;_

_sus som av vingar_

_Se, på vår tröskel står,_

_vitklädd med ljus is hår,_

_Sankta Lucia, Sankta Lucia_

_. . ._

_Night walks grand and silent,_

_now is head it's wings._

_In every room so hushed,_

_murmur like of wings._

_Look, at out threshold stands,_

_White-clad with light in her hair,_

_Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia_

“ _Natten går tunga fjät” (“Night walks with heavily steps”), Arvid Rosén_




 

Draco was so tired. He hadn't gotten any sleep last night again. And now he was about to fall asleep at lunch, which was not good at all.

It was a bit confusing. How could just two sleepless nights make him this tired? It was annoying to say the least, and it was affecting his work. He had blown up a cauldron earlier today, because he wasn't focused on his potion. Thankfully, Potter had been over in the matter of seconds and cast a spell so that the potion didn't explode over the whole classroom, and he could blame the whole thing on supernatural dark __ powers that were out to get him.

But he realized that this lifestyle wasn't sustainable. He needed to sleep, to focus, to live through those choir lessons, to keep sane.

Absent-mindedly, Draco took a bite from a green apple that he didn't remember putting on his plate. Suddenly he was gasping for air, because he was choking on __ that bloody bite.

“Draco?” Daphne asked across the table in concern, as he coughedloudly. He was holding the table so hardthat his knuckles were turning white, his head was spinning from lack of oxygen and Millicent was next to him trying desperately to acquaint his spine with his rib cage.

“ _R_ _espiramina_ _liberum!_ ” he heard a voice say and suddenly he could _breathe_ again.

Draco looked up to find Potter standing beside Daphne's seat, pointing his wand at him.

“Thank you,” Draco rasped weakly.

“You're alright?” he pushed on.

“Yeah.”

“Class is about to start soon, should we get going?” Potter asked and Draco looked at his clock and realized Potter was right.

“You're all done?” he asked his friends.

“All done, Draco.” Pansy smiled and stood up. “Shouldn't you go and get your bag, Potter?” she asked softy.

“Er, yeah,” he said and went back to the Gryffindor table. Soon the eighth year Slytherins and Potter and his friends headed out of the Great Hall, for the first time as one big group.

 

.:X:.

 

“You look a bit tired, Malfoy,” Hermione pointed out softly later.

“Ah, yes.” Malfoy offered no further explanation. Parkinson grabbed Hermione's sleeve and whispered quietly in her ear something Harry only heard because he was walking right behind them.

“Theo told me that he was awake when he woke up. That's two days in a row now. But don't say it out loud, Draco will only get angry at this point.”

“What makes you say that?”

“He gets really grumpy when he hasn't slept well, so we tend to be careful when that happens.”

Harry was a bit taken aback by __ the way Hermione and Parkinson talked to each other, almost like friends.

“Harry!” a voice called from behind him and the whole group turned around to find Ginny walking up to them. She hadn't sat with Harry and the others when they ate lunch, instead she had been at the Ravenclaw table with Luna.

“Yes?”

“Can I talk to you?” Harry looked at the others, not knowing quite what to do. Because he knew that Ginny wanted a private conversation, and it wasn't something he could exactly offer her right now. He didn't have to make a decision though, as Malfoy made it for him.

“You can walk ahead,” he said to the others who accepted his words without fuss – even Ron – and turned to walk toclass.

“Why are you still here?” Ginny demanded of Malfoy.

“He can't leave,” Harry told her.

“Why?!” Her face was slightly red and there was a hysterical undertone in her voice.

“I _can't tell you._ ” Harry was staring to get really tired of Ginny's endless questions and nagging.

“Silencing Charm, Potter,” Malfoy drawled, and Harry blinked at him, it was actually a good suggestion and Harry drew his wand and cast a charm over himself and Ginny.

“I'm so sick of this, Harry,” Ginny complained as soon as he finished the spell. “I hardly see you, and when I do, you're with fucking _Malfoy_ , and you don't tell me what is going on and why he has to be with you, and you run across the freaking Great Hall just because he choked on an _apple_? What is that?!”

“I – ”

“Are you cheating on me with him?” she cut him off.

“ _What?!”_ Harry was totally taken aback by this. _Why was everybody thinking that there was something going on between him and Malfoy?!_ Harry was utterly mortified because he had never even entertained the thought.

“Because it certainly looks like it Harry,” she continued, not missing a beat. “Like when I walked into your common room, you were letting him have your shoulder, Harry, and the way you looked at him–” she trailed off, voice trembling.

“Ginny, there's nothing going on between me and Malfoy. I promise you.”

“I can't do this any more, Harry. It doesn't matter if you're telling the truth and you're not cheating on me. You still stare at him all the time in the kind of way you only look at someone you like, and you didn't even notice when I wasn't there at lunch.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” he finally managed, speaking his mind.

“Yes,” she returned, not even looking at him any more.

“Wha –– _why_ , Ginny?!” Harry was dumbfounded. It was like she had slapped him and he did not know how to react.

She just shook her head, tears now streaming down her face and turned and walked away.

“ _Ginny!_ ” he shouted after her, but realized that he still had the silence charm on him and cancelled itwith anaggressive gesture.

“Fuck it!” he snapped and stormed to class. Fuck Ginny. Fuck Malfoy. Fuck bloody Lucia and everything that ever mattered, fuck duty and all that shit.

What happened?” Malfoy asked beside him, easily walking in Harry's quick pace.

“She – ” he broke off. Could he really tell Malfoy about this? He met Malfoy's grey eyes and abruptly stopped, held in place by those eyes. They were calm and questioning, withno hate or cold in them like they usually held when they looked at him.

“She broke up with me,” Harry said before he registered that the words had left his mouth, and suddenly it all got to him. Ginny had broken up with him, “She broke up with me...” he said again, more to himself. He couldn't wrap his head around it. Had that just happened? “She – she thought I was cheating her, with– with _you_ , and she – oh God!”

“Potter, look at me.” Two strong hands grabbed his shoulders and turned him to look at that pair of grey eyes he hadn't realized he had looked away from. “Breathe.” Malfoy's clear voice told him.

“God.” he dropped his head on Malfoy's shoulder, not caring anymoreif Malfoy might not like it. It was all dawning on him. Ginny thought Harry had been cheating on her with Malfoy. Neville thought Harry _fancied_ Malfoy, and – and all he could think about was how great it felt to rest his head on Malfoy's shoulder. How good Malfoy smelled, and the way he could feel his body heat though the clothes, how he felt struck by lightning every time he looked into those grey eyes, and how heloved the bright timbre of Malfoy's voice.

It was all so many things at once.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The words “starboys” or “tärnor” I have no idea where they came from, or at least no real source but my own conclusions and guessings, whith I'm now going to tell you, btw.  
> The word “tärna” looks and sounds a awful lot alike “stjärna” which is the Swedish word for “star”, so I believe, based on my own guessings, that the word comes from the word “star” (in Swedish). And it makes sense, since he have also “starboys”, and a lot of the songs that you sing at Lucia is about Bethlehem's Star, and so on. At least that's what I think :P

_Long lay the world in sin and error pining_

_Till He appears and the soul felt it's worth_

_A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices_

_For yonder breaks a new an glorious morn_

“ _Oh Holy Night”, John Sullivan Dwight_




 

Draco wasn't one hundred percent sure what to do. Potter's head lay on his shoulder, and he was  desperately trying to  restrain himself from hugging him, and he couldn't figure out how to push Potter away.

It was something that he couldn't __ pinpoint, but the way Potter had looked when he was talking to Weasley, the way he had panicked when it finally drawn on him __ that she had, in fact, broken up with him, had all made something ignite inside of Draco.

“ _She thought I was cheating on_ _her with – with_ you _!”_

There was something about the way he had said it that made Draco's stomach hurt. Like it was completely unthinkable that the two of them could ever be anything other than enemies. And really, it shouldn't bother him. But it did.

“I think neither of us are really fit to go to class right now, so how about just calling it a day?” Draco suggested as he pushed those thoughts away. Potter looked up and Draco regretfully let his hands fall offhis shoulders.

“Why do you say that?”

“Well you just got dumped and I haven't slept fortwo nights in a row... so class doesn't look like a great option at the moment.”

“Draco Malfoy, skipping class.” Potter smiled howeverand turned to walk to the Tower, andDraco followed right beside him.

“But what about choir?”

“We'll have to attend that, or else everyone is going to think we've died.” _We_. It sounded so weird to use the word 'we' when talking to Potter, but somehow, it made Draco smile. Like they could be a 'we' like he had hoped all those years ago.

“And if they ask why we weren't at the last three classes before choir?” Merlin, now he was using it too, and it did funny stuff to Draco's inner organs.

“We'll say that something happened, and imply that it was a bit traumatic therefore we don'twant to talk about it. We can suggest that I wasn't in a condition to go to class afterwards.”

“Wouldn't that be lying?”

“Not as I see it.” 

“Oh? Care to explain?”

“Well, something _did_ happen. Your girlfriend dumped you, and I guess that you don't want to talk about it, and I'm not fit to attend to class since I can barely stay awake.”

“If I ever had any doubts that you were a Slytherin, they are now crushed,” Harry said wryly.

“Thank you.”

It was surprisingly easy to talk to Potter when it was in this civil, relaxed context, and Draco found that he liked it. They walked in a comfortable silence to the Tower and entered. The common room was, as it should be, deserted __ and Draco claimed the most comfortable couch in front of the fire in a blink of an eye.

It was a rather big couch, and when Draco had lain down and closed his eyes, he felt Potter sit down just above his head.

“I'm hopefully going to fall asleep now, and if you wake me up before necessary be ready to face my wrath.”

“You seriously think that you can throw something at me that I can't handle?”

“We'll have to wait and see.” He smirked and then fell asleep by the sounds of the fire and Potter's regular breathing.

 

.:X:.

 

Harry watched him. Just watched him quietly. From his seat he had a brilliant view of Malfoy's profile, that were resting on the couch. He saw how his chest rose and fell, how Malfoy's eyelashes would sometimes flutter and how he at times would tense as if he was dreaming something horrible.

“ _I haven't slept for two nights in a row,”_ he had said.

Harry suddenly remembered what McGonagall had said, something about how the dark could take over one's dreams.  It was mostly likely this that had kept Malfoy awake at night . But how could Harry prevent it?

At that moment, Malfoy gasped loudly, like something had hit him hard in the stomach, and his whole being seemed to tremble.

“Malfoy?” Harry tried, but the blonde's entire body was locked and tense to the point that he was shaking. “Malfoy!” he shouted and grabbed one shoulder, and tried again. “Malfoy, wake up!”

It was completely opposite from that incident in the corridor, because at Harry's touch Malfoy pushed himself up to Harry, his head hitting Harry's leg. Before Harry knew what was happening, Malfoy had his head in Harry'd lap, fisting the fabric of Harry's trousers for dear life.

Slowly, Malfoy's breathing calmed and Harry felt his whole body relax once more. Harry released a breath that he hadn't noticed he was holding, but he didn't do anything to get Malfoy to move away from him. Malfoy needed this to sleep, he told himself, and simply __ continued his previous entertainment of staring at Malfoy's sleeping face.

_What am I doing?_ It then hit him. He should be thinking of Ginny, shouldn't he? Why she had dumped him all the sudden, how the hell she thought that there was something between him and Malfoy, and why she felt like she had to be with him  _all the time_ .

Harry forced himself to look into the roaring fire, trying to push Malfoy away from his mind. It really wasn't what he should be thinking about, he knew it.

Then why did he?

Ginny, with whom he had spent the whole summer with, who was his first proper girlfriend and wonderful in so many ways, who coped with him and all his crazy impulses. It all crumbled compared to just one thing that he found he liked about Malfoy. Like the way he sang, the way he sometimes smiled, disarming and bright, how  Draco’s eyes brightened when he first opened them that first time in the hallway , how he had  unapologetically __ practically thrown himself onto Harry. How the thought  that Harry was the one who could help him sleep in peace meant the world to him.

Gently, he lifted his hand from Malfoy's shoulder and ran it through the white __ blond hair, without really thinking. It was so soft, and so very short compared to Ginny's. Malfoy had stopped combing his hair back sometime during last year so it fell into his eyes, and had kept the look when he started school again  and Harry realized he was somehow thankful for that.

 

And like that, the two of them sat until Harry started to wonder what time it was and glanced at his wristwatch. He gasped when he saw that it was about fifteen minutes to choir. As gently as he could, he lifted Malfoy's head from his lap and with much difficulty managed to get off the couch without waking Malfoy. He laid his head back down and fell on his knees before Malfoy and started shaking him. He didn't dare to think of Malfoy's reaction if he found himself sleeping in Harry's lap, how he might possibly blame Harry for it and he would feel really stupid.

“Malfoy, time to get up. Choir's soon, and we don't want to miss that, do we?” Malfoy groaned and tried to turn away from him, but Harry stood his ground. “I know you're awake, and if you don't get up right this second I'm going to carry you all the way to the choir room, won't that be embarrassing?”

Malfoy's eyes flew open before he'd even finished the sentence, and stared at him with a threatening look.

“You wouldn't.”

“Want to try me?”

“Fuck you.” Grumpily he sat up and Harry stood.

“I take it you slept well then?”

“Just any sleep at all was fine,” he said and rubbed his eyes. “But yes, thank you.”

“Good. Got all you need with you?”

“Yes, let's go.” Malfoy stood and walked past him and out, but Harry soon caught up with him. Just like before, they walked in silence, side by side, to the choir room.

“Where the hell have you been?!” Pansy Parkinson shouted at Malfoy before he'd even manage to step through the door.

“And you!” She turned to Harry now, much to his surprise. “Your friends have been going mental on me the last couple of hours, so you better have a good explanation.”

“Take it easy Pansy, everything is fine.” Malfoy stepped forward and placed his hands on her shoulders. She eyed him suspiciously with a gaze that would make Harry breakand tell his darkest secrets, but Malfoy didn't even flinch.

“You finally fell asleep,” she then said, eyes softening.

“Yes, so don't be mad at any of us.”

“Fine.”

Malfoy slipped his arm around her waist, walking together in the room with Harry following behind, feeling uneasy about Malfoy's gesture.

“Harry!” Ron called as soon as he entered, and he could only conclude that Parkinson hadn't been exaggerating. “About bloody time!”

“Class doesn't start for three minutes, I'm not late if that's what you mean.” Even though Malfoy had his back to Harry, he would bet his Fireboltthat Malfoy had rolled his eyes.

“But you and Malfoy disappeared and were gone all day, Harry! Where were you?” Hermione demanded.

“Something happened, and I wasn't fit for class afterwards, so I persuaded Potter that we should go to the common room,” Malfoy stepped in, taking Harry aback and Ron as well judging by his face.

“So you were in the common room the whole time?” Hermione pushed.

“Yes,” they both said and just then Flitwick, who none of them had seen enter, called for everybody's attention.

“Today, I thought it a good idea to hand out the clothes that you all will be wearing during the ceremony and sometimes when we rehearse.” With a flick of his wand, white garments appeared, looking like long nightgowns to Harry. “Everyone will have one of these on, doesn't matter if you are a boy or a girl, they all look more or less the same, so if you will all form a line I can hand out one that is the right size.”

“You knew about the clothes?” Harry turned to Hermione and asked, and she nodded her head.

“I've read several texts that talked about white clothing, and according to Malfoy many of the lyrics relate to it as well.”

“Seriously? But why dresses?” he had to know, when Flitwick pulled out a nightgown for Justin who was first in line, which confirmed that yes, they were going to be wearing dresses.

“Haven't gotten that far in my research,” said Hermione.

 

When it was their turn, it took Flitwick a good five minutes to find a gown big enough to fit Ron's tall frame and Harry couldn't help but think about Dudley's oversized clothes and how  Professor Flitwick would __ never have found a gown that would fit his cousin.

“Right,” Flitwick finally said after everyone had gotten a gown, even Malfoy who had demanded the most luxurious one. “I think that will be all for today actually, but do not lose your nightgown. I will tell you ahead of time when you are going to bring them to the lessons. Have a good evening.”

“So, apparently we are all going to wear nightgowns in front of the whole school.” Ron stated and looked down at his gown, which had a collar with a lace on it reminiscent of Ron’s dress robes from fourth year, and when Harry looked, so did his.

“With laces on, it's going to be a blast,” he couldn't help but respond.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucia is also celebrated in other countries aside from Sweden, such as Denmark, Norway, Iceland, Finland and parts of USA, and it's mostly because it spread from Sweden, so in like USA it's Swedish communities and Swedes that moved there that makes the celebrations happen I gather from what wikipedia tells me, and schools that teach Swedish, the students are forced to carry on the tradition (wikipedia doesn't say that, but I'm tired and I find it funny to put it like that).  
> The other country's are all members of “Scandinavia” together with Sweden, who is practically in the middle (win) so of course the tradition spread. In Finland it's the Swedish part of the country (Finland was once Swedish, and now it's not, but Swed-Finish people (I made that word up just now)), i.e. Finnish folks that speaks Swedish as their mother tongue celebrate Lucia.  
> In Denmark, the celebration stared officially year 1944 (during WWII) in a try to “bring light in these dark times”, referring more to Germany that was occupying Denmark at the time, more than the dark outside. (Me fucking gusta that.)
> 
> So, I don't really know what more there is to say about Lucia (now you're all thinking “YES! NO MORE LONG ANNOYING A/N:S!!! WIN!”) and I can understand that. Totally. But, if you have read this stuff, and have questions or whatever, feel free to ask me anything.
> 
> Oh, and since it's the 13th in real life now – HAPPY LUCIA!!!! (Even though you don't really say that, like ever. To anybody. And it sounds really, really stupid.(seriously, in Sweden we don't wish a “happy Lucia” of whatever, we just watch it on TV, eat Lussebullar, perhaps watch or participate in the schools Lucia-train))

_See the blazing Yule before us,_

_Fa la la la la, la la la la._

_Strike the harp and join the chorus,_

_Fa la la la la, la la la._

“ _Deck the Halls”, Trad_




 

“I think you two should eat together,” Hermione stated on their way to the Great Hall after the choir lesson, talking to himself and Malfoy.

“ _Why?_ ” Malfoy asked behind her.

“Because you choked on that apple at lunch,” she said matter of-factly.

“Don't you think that you are exaggerating a little? It was an _apple_ , not a demon that dragged me under the table to kill me.”

“You could have suffocated if Harry hadn't gotten there so quickly.”

“Why do I think of Snow White when you're talking about this, Hermione?” Harry asked.

“That's an excellent comparison, Harry! It is like in Snow White.”

“Snow is white, what are you referring to?” Malfoy wanted to know.

“It's a Muggle story about a princess that chokes on an apple her stepmother had poisoned. The princess wakes up when some prince kisses her,” Harry told him.

“Seriously? A story based around someone choking on an apple? Muggles...”

“Actually, in the original story the stepmother tried to suffocate Snow White with a corset and some other things before the apple,” Hermione developed.

“And this story was told to…?”

“Children.”

“And you thought our story's were brutal, Hermione,” Ron said.

“Back to the original conversation, Potter really doesn't have to sit with me,” Malfoy said before Hermione could answer Ron.

“I think you're both underestimating this. Two things have already happened today, so why shouldn't a third?”

“Well, about that, Hermione, it really – ” Harry spluttered.

“I think she's right,” Parkinson of all people cut Harry off, and Malfoy looked at her with wide eyes.

“I really shouldn't leave you alone so often,” he said.

“Shush Draco, I just think that Granger has a point.”

“Like I said, this is the second time this month you're agreeing with her.”

“And with good reason. Now Potter, you will sit at our table now, and tomorrow at breakfast Draco will sit at yours, and so on.”

“I really don't think – ” Harry began, but once again someone cut him off.

“Great idea,” Hermione said and pushed Harry towards the Slytherin table just as they entered the Great Hall. Nott dragged Harry with him, and he could see over his shoulder Ron fighting valiantly for his freedom, and how Hermione gave him a glare that said this was not upfor discussion. Nott led him to the table and made him sit down between Malfoy and himself.

“Your ex looks like she is about to throw something at me,” Malfoy whispered in his ear, warm breathsending shivers down his back, and when he looked up he found that yes, Ginny was staring at him and Malfoy with wide, dangerous eyes. He also noted Dean beside her, trying to get her attention, undoubtedly with a good lie aboutwhy Harry was sitting next to Malfoy that did not involve them being lovers of some sort.

 

Dinner with the Slytherins was surprisingly pleasant, with Nott and Parkinson having  great discussions about class. Malfoy was unusually quiet, at least from what Harry had gathered from watching him, and all in all it was rather nice. Harry sat back and watched, and saw how Malfoy's friends became people, human if you may, talking to each other in a friendly manner about quite trivial stuff, joking and laughing and taunting each other in a kind manner. So similar to his own friends.

“Anyway, I'm dying to find out, what really happened today?” Greengrass suddenly asked Malfoy and Harry. The other three Slytherins also turned towards them, observing closely.

“Er...” Harry began, but Malfoy thankfully stepped in.

“How low of you to try and trick Potter into telling you without him knowing if I want you to know or not.” His voice was teasing yet stern, and Harry watched a grin spread across his face.

“Oh, you hardly even told us what happened last time, Draco! Don't you see that we're worried about you?”

“Coming from you, no. You think this whole thing is exciting like one of your weird novels and you just want to know because of the thrill of knowing.”

“I'm offended.” Greengrass gasped and put a hand on her heart dramatically, but her façade cracked two seconds later and she giggled together with Bulstrode.

“That was my intention.” Malfoy smiled and Harry's heart skipped a beat, being able to see that smile so close up.

 

After dessert they all got up and were soon accompanied by Hermione and Neville on their way to the Tower.

“Ron wanted to stuff some more cake down his throat, he'll come soon enough,” Neville answered Harry's unspoken question. “And he was a bit grumpy that you had to sit at the Slytherin table. Did they eat you alive, by the way?”

“Surprisingly no, it was rather nice actually.”

“I can imagine, sitting next toMalfoy with Nott and Parkinson talking over your head.” Neville winked, and for a second Harry wondered when exactly his friend had become so bold. Probably around the time that he sliced Voldemort’s snake to pieces in front of the whole school.

“Shut up you,” Harry retorted goodnaturedly.Neville smiled and dropped the subject, and soon they arrived at the Tower. Malfoy and Hermione sat down at their now usual table, accompanied by Parkinson who was talking to them both about some theory she had about how to tame Hermione's wild hair.

“I think I'm actually going to study, Neville,” Harry proclaimed.

“Good luck my friend.”

“Could you perhaps go to my room and get my Transfiguration book and a scroll and some ink, perhaps? Since I can't actually go anywhere you know, not even sit at a different table from Malfoy.”

“You know that table thing only goes for the Great Hall,” Neville said with a knowing glance.

“It was what I was referring to, what do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing. Sure Harry, be right back.” And with that Neville climbed the stairs, and was actually back just a few moments later with the things Harry hadasked for, and some book about Herbology.

“How did you get it so quickly?” Harry asked.

“Would you believe me if I told you that I just used ' _Accio_ Harry's Transfiguration book'?”

“No.”

“Pity, because it's the truth, but I had to do it like three times before it actually worked.” Neville laughed and promptly sat down at Hermione's and Malfoy's table beside Parkinson leaving the only empty spot for Harry beside Malfoy. Harry glared daggers at Neville as he sat down, but Neville pretended notto take notice of him. Harry sighedand opened his book, painfully aware that Malfoy was looking questionably athim.

After some time of actual reading, Malfoy elbowed Harry in the ribs.

“What the – ” Harry started, but the look Malfoy was giving him made him shut up. Malfoy flicked his eyes upwards and then back to Harry, and then up again, as ifto tell Harry to look, and he followed Malfoy's gaze. He saw, right in front of him, Neville sneakily lifting his eyes from his book to look at Parkinson, and then snapping his head back to his book staring at it when she did exactly the same, both of them with a faint blush on their cheeks.

It took about three seconds for Harry to understand exactly what was going on right before his eyes, and when it did he had to cover his mouth with his hand not to exclaim “Oh my God!” or similar.

Malfoy scribbled something down on the parchment that Harry had lain between them  with the intention to __ write notes down, but he __ hadn't found something worth the effort.

_I know_ , Malfoy's neat handwriting said. Harry took his quill and dipped it in his inkwell to answer.

_When the hell did this happen??_ His handwriting looked even more terrible under Malfoy's fine words, and Harry hoped Malfoy wouldn't comment on it.

_I think it's just starting_

_What makes you say that?_ Harry looked up to study the two in front of him and then threw a quick eye at Hermione to see if she had noticed anything, but she was so absorbed in her book that she  wouldn’t have noticed if a hippogriff had crashed through the window . He looked down at the parchment to find that Malfoy had answered him.

_I believe we are about to witness Pansy and Longbottom growing fond of each other._ Draco made a face as he finished writing, as if the thought itself could deteriorate his brain.

_ Isn't _ _she like fond of you?_ Harry couldn't help but ask, because it really seemed like it sometimes, like when Malfoy put his arm around her waist, how he defended her and hugged her when she was crying. You kind of got the impression that they where together didn't you?

He looked at Malfoy's face when he read what Harry had scribbled down, and much to his surprise he saw Malfoy trying to suppress laughter. Shaking his head, Malfoy picked up his quill again and Harry watched as he wrote his explanation.

_I can see how you would_ __ _think that – but no. No. I play for a different team than she does, and she knows it._

I took a while for Harry to process this. What the hell did Malfoy mean “play for a different team”?


	14. Chapter 14

_Mörkret skall flykta snart ur jordens dalar_

_Så hon ett underbart ord till oss talar;_

_Dagen skall åter ny, stiga ur rosig sky,_

_Sankta Lucia, Sankta Lucia_

_. . ._

_Darkness shall take flight soon, from the earth's valley's._

_So she speaks a wonderful word to us;_

_A new day shall rise again from the rosy sky,_

_Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia!_

_"Sankta Lucia" ("Santa Lucia"), Sigrid Elmblad_

 

Theo had gone to bed late that night. Draco and Corner,  which was saying something, were both fast asleep when he walked  through the door to their dormitory. He remembered thinking “Good,  Draco will finally __ get a __ good night's sleep” because he was really annoying when he didn't, Theo and the others had concluded long ago.

Quickly, he got ready for bed , __ slipped under his new, clean sheets and fell asleep within seconds.

But that sleep did not last for  as long as he would have liked.

 

A scream that sounded like it was coming from a man under  _ Crucio _ ripped through the air, full of terror and panic. __ Theo gave a start and was on his feet before he knew it, wand at the ready.

“What the hell is going on?” he heard a voice, that he seconds later realized belonged toCorner asking over the shout of death. That meant that that the shouting must be coming from –

“Draco!” he lunged forward, as if in battle, to Draco's bed and cast _Lumos_ wordlessly. He saw how Draco was crying out in a voice that would haunt Theo for weeks, and he sawhow he twisted and turned in his sheets, never even taking a breath.

“ _Draco!_ ” he shouted and grabbed a hold of the blonde, desperately shaking him to try and wake him up, but Draco seemed to scream even louder and twist even more in Theo's grip.

“ _DRACO!_ ” Corner turned on the lamp that was sitting on Draco's bedside table, because Theo haddropped his wand when he hadreached for Draco and the light had gone out.

And just like that, in the yellow light of Draco's paraffin lamp, Draco gasped for air, and started to  breathe heavily, falling back in his bed with exhaustion.

“What the hell?” Corner muttered and stared down at Draco and Theo sitting on his bed, still with his hands on his shoulders.

“It's the light,” Theo thought out loud more than answering Corner. “When it's dark he'll get nightmares, when there's a source of light he can sleep peacefully.”

“Then why didn't he wake when you turned on your wand?”

“Maybe it has to be non-magical light, like candles and paraffin.”

“That's mental.”

“So are you.” And with that Theo rose and went back to his own bed, but not before checking that Draco had enough paraffin in his lamp.

“You better not turn it off,” he said to Corner who was reaching out to just do that, “or else he'll start to have nightmares and scream again.”

With an annoyed sigh, Corner lay down mumbling something, but Theo couldn't care less. It was getting worse, this Lucia-thing, the closer they came to the day of the ceremony, and Theo was desperate to find a way for __ Draco __ to escape his nightmares.

 

.:X:.

 

“Sleep well?” Corner asked bitterly when Draco woke up thenext day, surprising him with being there at all when he woke up. “Because I didn't,” Corner snapped without waiting for an answerand stormed out.

“What was all that about?” he turned to ask Theo, who was just getting out of bed.

“You don't remember?”

“Remember what exactly?”

“You – ” Theo hesitated, something that was unusual since he typically was so straight forward. “You woke both of us up, screaming like someone under _Crucio_ , and it was almost impossible to make you stop.” Draco had just then turned his head, to find is bed lamp turned on.

“You turned on the light,” he said tonelessly.

“Yes, or Corner did, I was busy trying to wake you up.”

“There's probably some sarcastic joke in here somewhere, but I can't seem to find it.”

“You're still tired?” Theo asked surprised.

“You wouldn't believe how much.”

They said nothing more as they got ready for breakfast and waited for Potter to knock on the door. He came, in his __ usual manner, just when Draco had started to stare out of the window, looking down at the newly fallen snow that covered all Hagrid's big footsteps, and students snow angels and snowball fight fields. But that didn't matter so much, because Hagrid would make new footsteps this very same day, and students would go out and play and run around in the snow throwing snowballs at each other and fall to the ground and make new angels.

It reminded him of his view from his window at the Malfoy Manor, and he hated it. So why did he stand in front of the window, every day, looking out at the winterland before him, aching for someone or something to catch his attention and  make him truly __ look away.

Theo had stopped trying long ago, and he only ever did __ try because he wanted breakfast. So it was Potter who made Draco turn around nowadays. Even though it had been less than a week, Draco was still always waiting for Potter to knock on the door. He would act like he didn't notice that Potter was now there, stubbornly staring through the window until Potter would try to make himself acknowledged, or when Theo in his sometimes grumpy morning moods made Draco turn around.

He did not like that he did this, waited for someone to tear him away from the window, and liked even less that that someone was rapidly becoming “Potter”. They weren't even on first name basis, and yet Potter obstinately was becoming far too important to Draco for his own liking.

He heard Potter's soft knock on the door, and how it opened and he could see so clearly in his mind how Potter poked his head inside, not wanting to step into the dorm.

“Everyone ready?” he asked and Draco finally turned around to take the bag that Theo was holding out for him.

Whatever anger or agony he had built up that morning, looking outside the window, or from knowing that even though he had slept the whole night but was still as tired as he had been when he went to bed, melted away when he meet Potter's intensely green eyes.

All of a sudden it didn't matter if he hated the snow that fell, hated how the view reminded him of his long lost Christmases, hated that he  felt compelled __ to look out that window every bloody day, because Potter would still be there every day, to make him turn around and look away.

 

.:X:.

 

Harry was still trying to wrap his head around everything that was happening. Neville was crushing on Parkinson. And he could not for the likes of him figure out what Malfoy meant by 'play for another team'. Was he or was he not in a relationship with Pansy Parkinson?

 

He was sitting by the Gryffindor table for breakfast, and even though Malfoy was sitting next to him he just couldn't turn his head and ask him somehow. It felt like confirming that he was absolutely clueless about the matter.

He turned his head anyway, just to make sure that Malfoy was okay surrounded by Gryffindors of course, and found the blond dosing off by the table.

“Didn't sleep well?” he asked before he knew it.

“Believe it or not, but I slept the whole night through, and I feel just as tired as I was yesterday.”

“Then maybe you should skip class and go sleep in the common room again, eh Draco?” someone said, making the two boys look up to find Parkinson right in front of them. “Didn't think I would leave you with all these Gryffindors, did you?” she said and slid down next to Neville, Harry noted, who turned scarlet.

“I didn't think that, actually. You always seem to be by my side, so I just assumed you would follow as always.”

“What a spoiled brat you are, Draco,” Pansy said loftily.

Ron choked on his pumpkin juice at that Harry couldn't help but laugh at him.

“Looks like I'm not as tired as Weasley though, he can't even drink properly,” Malfoy joked, maybe meant for Parkinson's laughter, but Harry found it funny all the same.

“Ha ha, yes laugh at the ginger, I'll soon be all your boss,” Ron said and then started laughing himself.

“In your dreams, Weasley.” Malfoy smirked.

 

It was later in class that Harry finally got  an answer to his question .

He had asked Ron, who was sitting next to him in Herbology, but he had turned out to be as  dumbfounded as Harry.

“What do you mean, like a Quidditch-team or something?” Harry had asked about the phrase without mentioning that it was Malfoy who had said it.

“Honestly, you two?” Hermione had hissed beside Ron, “Whoever told you that, Harry, means that he or she is probably _gay_.”

Harry had dropped his shovel, making dirt and mud splatter at Neville and Dean who were __ standing across from him.

“Watch it, Harry!” Dean exclaimed, rubbing mud off his face, but Harry's mind was somewhere else.

Draco Malfoy had told him last night that he fancied blokes.  Like as in boys .

“Are you okay mate?” Ron's concerned voice asked and he felt Ron's hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, I'm just –” he broke off, not knowing what he really was.

“Who said that to you, Harry?” Hermione asked.

“Oh, no, I read it in a book,” he lied, and by the looks of it, Hermione did not buy it. But she didn’t push it, so Harry in turn didn't bother making up a better cover.

He looked over at Malfoy, who was holding up a root, eyeing it critically, mouth moving and Parkinson by his side rolled her eyes at his complaining.

That guy was not in a relationship with that girl. He was in fact gay. As in liked boys. Harry felt oddly reassured by the knowledge.


	15. Chapter 15

_Jag såg på kartan,_

_Du är på andra sidan jorden._

_Men det är samma himmel, det är samma hav_

_och stjärnan som jag såg_

_föll för alltid som vi drömmer,_

_föll för att vi aldrig glömmer._

_. . ._

_I looked on the map,_

_You are on the other side of the earth._

_But it's the same sky, it's the same sea_

_and the star that I saw_

_fell forever as we dreamed,_

_fell for that we never forget_

“ _Tänd ett ljus” (“Lighten a candle”), Triad_

 

It came as a happy surprise when the whole eighth year was informed that their Potions class after lunch had been cancelled. Apparently Professor Slughorn had slipped when he was trying to steal potions ingredients from Professor Sprout's plantations.  He had slipped fleeing from Hagrid as he was checking on the greenhouses and Slughorn wasn’t going to be let out of the hospital wing until tomorrow. McGonagall had promised Sprout that she would make sure that this would never happen again.

So Harry, Malfoy and all the others went back to their common room directly after lunch.

Harry was a bit bewildered when he saw Nott following and sitting down rather close to Malfoy, but didn't think too __ much about it. He was still a bit in shock about __ what he had realized, and didn't quite know how to act around Malfoy any more.

_He's still the exact same person_ , he said to himself, but that didn't stop him from staring at the blond.

“You realize that if you keep staring like that the whole class will think that you actually _have_ a crush on Malfoy,” Neville whispered in his ear and Harry didn't miss a beat.

“You realize that if you keep glancing over at Parkinson like that the whole class will think you're actually _crushing_ on her.” Neville's face was scarlet when Harry turned to look at him, and he couldn't help but smile. “So you're in the same boat as me.”

“And what exactly is that boat?” Neville asked throughhis embarrassment.

“No bloody idea...”

“How did you know? I mean the only reason you figured out Ron and Hermione was because it was practically punching you in the face.”

“I didn't. Malfoy did.” Neville's face went white in two seconds flat. “He elbowed me last night and made me look up at you when you were sneaking glances of her,” Harry said.

“Trust a Slytherin to see that. He's going to kill me...” Neville turned his gaze to Malfoy who was sitting between Parkinson and Nott and Harry saw fear and also rebellion fight for supremacy over his friend’s face.

“I think he's okay with it, actually,” Harry offered.

“What?! Are you bloody kidding me? This is _Draco Malfoy_ we are talking about, and I'm looking at his girlfriend!”  Neville was incredulous.

“So you admit it now, do you?” Harry grinned.

“Damn you, Harry.”

“He seemed fine about it last night, he's probably more into killing you if you hurt her, or at least ifhe thinks you hurt her.”

“Harry, can I talk with you for a second?” Hermione called, as she walked up to them.

“By the way, Parkinson was looking at you too.” Harry winked and then turned to Hermione, leaving Neville gaping to his back.

“Are you okay, Neville?” Hermione asked around Harry’s shoulder.

“What? Yes, um, yeah, I'm fine, I just – er.” And then Neville went up the stairs and was not likely to come down before someone made him.

“Is he really fine, Harry?” Hermione followed him with her gaze, looking concerned.

“Yes, I think he's just a little taken aback by the moment and needs some time to think.”

“Okay, but nowwhat I really wanted to talk to you about.” She looked around, to make sure that no one was listening, but Neville and Harry had been standing in a quite lonely part of the room. Hermione casted a Silencing charm over them anyway.

“Okay Harry, don't get mad at me for telling you this,” she started and now she was making him nervous, “but I read something in this book that I think you need to know.” He saw now how she was clutching a really big book to her chest, holding it as if it was worth protecting.

“Hermione?” he prompted.

“Look, the book said that usually a certain person is chosen to be Staffan because he or she is the most likely to fall in love with Lucia, and the Goblet feels that this person can protect Lucia the best,” she blurtedout in a hurry.

“What?” Harry whispered, not entirely sure that he hadheard right.

“It doesn't mean that you _have_ to fall in love with Malfoy, Harry. It just means that you are likely to.”

“Does Malfoy know?” He ran his hand through his hair, messing it up even more, but he did not care at all.

“Not that I'm aware of.”

“Good. Keep it that way.”

“He has just the same right to know as you do, Harry!” she exclaimed.

“I can't do this right now, Hermione! So much is happening, and I can't..! _God!_ ”

Harry marched away from Hermione, not able to cope with everything that was happening now. All he really wanted was to go to his dorm and think, just like Neville. But he couldn't, because  that meant he would have to leave __ Malfoy, and he would never hear the end of it.

So instead he dropped down in a armchair next to Ron, looking miserable.

“Wow, what happened to you?” his friend asked.

“What hasn't happened?” Harry sighed.

“Should I be worried?” Ron raised his eyebrows.

“I'll say no, but you're probably going to be anyway, because since when are people not worried about _something_ about me.”

“Okay, now. Let's take this from the beginning. What the bloody hell happened?”

“There are so _many_ things happening Ron, I can't know with one I'll have to tell you!”

“How about all of them?”

“No definitely not.”

“Why?”

“Because if I say it out loud it'll become reality, and not just some thing in my head, that's why!”

Ron sighed and rubbed his temples.

“Great Godric, I don't know what's worse. You coming up with insane conspiracy theories or you keeping your mouth shut when something is obviously bugging you.”

“It's not so fun from this side of the fence either,” Harry snapped back.

“Okay, I'll be nice for now and talk about something else, but don't expect that you're getting away from this!”

“Okay...”

“So. How's Ginny?” Harry froze in his seat, Ron had gone from skirting thepossibly falling in love with Malfoy issue, and Malfoy being gay, to theGinny issue. This was not his day.

“I don't know.” Harry decided that he at least had to be honest with his best friend in this, and maybe that would feel better if he talked about it. “She broke up with me.”

“She did _what_?!”  Ron’s mouth fell open in surprise.

“Christ, do you want the whole common room to hear you?” Harry whispered frantically.

“ _When?!_ ” Ron completely ignored Harry's comment and was staring at him like his skin had gone purple.

“Yesterday, when she wanted to talk to me.”

“Why didn't you say anything?!”

“I – I didn't know what to say, and then it just slipped my mind.”

“It slipped your mind that the girl you had been thinking of to get you through war broke up with you?”

“I don't know, Ron!” Harry exclaimed defensively.

“Does someone else know?”

“Malfoy, he was there when it happened.”

“So that's why you didn't come to class yesterday.”

“I wanted to, but he made me come up here instead!”

“What did you do?”

“What?”

“What did you do when you came up here? I mean you were gone for quite some time.”

“He fell asleep within minutes, and I stared into the fire.”

“All the time?”

“Yes?”

“Do you realize how weird that sounds? You broke up with your girlfriend and then go to the common room with your childhood enemy to stare into the fire while he sleeps for _hours_.”

“I had a lot to think about, okay?”

“Like why Ginny dumped you?” Ron pushed.

“Yes! Why do you have to be like this?”

“Okay, I'll stop, but I have to ask, you know?”

“Fine,” Harry bit out.

 

Harry didn't know what to think anymore. Was he going to fall in love with Malfoy? No way. What did that git have that Ginny lacked? He looked over his shoulder, just to prove to himself that Malfoy was nothing like Ginny, and immediately regretted it. Malfoy was sitting with his head resting in his palm, reading and letting his hair fall down over his eyes. It made Harry think of how soft it was when he had touched it, and how Malfoy looked good with his hair like that.

With a jerk he turned his head again, he was  _not_ thinking that Malfoy looked good in anything,  _no_ . He was simply observing.

But somewhere deep down inside of him, he was getting tired of lying to himself.


	16. Chapter 16

_Then I was born of a virgin pure,_

_Of her fleshly substance_

_Thus was I knit to man's nature_

_To call my true love with my dance_

 

_Singing oh! my love, oh! my love, my love, my love_

_This have I done for my true love_

_"Tomorrow Shall Be My Dancing Day", William B. Sandys, John Gardner_

 

Draco didn't know what to believe. He still didn't know  what had caused him to tell Potter about his sexuality yesterday, but the minor reaction told him that Potter hadn't understood what he was saying. And then at lunch Potter had been extremely awkward, and Draco guessed that someone had finally  explained it to him. And he caught himself thinking that it was Potter's move,  whatever the hell that meant. Like Draco was waiting for Potter to do something? No way.

“Draco, Granger, I think I found something that you should both see,” Theo said, and Granger who just had sat downlooked up.

“What is it?” Draco asked.

“You're probably not going to like it, Draco, but according to this text and what I myself figured out, the closer we come to the 13th, the closer you have to be to Potter.”

“What do you mean?” Draco asked carefully.

“The dark is growing stronger and stronger and is more anxious to stop you, and the best way to prevent that is to always have Potter nearby. Granger was rightwhen she made you two sit next to each other in the Great Hall. Even though you are in the same room, there are so many things happening there and it's too much space in between you so you become an easy target, Draco.”

“Thank you,” Granger said faintly, but Draco was staring at Theo, beginning to see where he was going.

“Oh no. No way in living hell.”

“It's the best way, Draco.”

“What are you talking about?” Granger injected.

“It will do with just sleeping with the light on, Theo.”

“Draco has started to have nightmares, and last night we couldn't wake him. He only stopped screaming when Corner turned the light on,” Theo informed Granger, whose eyes were widening.

“Draco!” Pansy exclaimed. “Why didn't you say something?!”

“There is nothing to fuss about!”

“How should we solve it?” Granger asked Theo.

“Well I was thinking – ”

“No. I know that you were thinking and there is no way it is going to happen.” Draco cut Theo off.

“It's the best way, Draco.”

“No.”

“What are you two on about?” Pansy demanded.

“Draco doesn't want to sleep in the same room as Potter,” Theo said before Draco could stop him. He didn't really know what made him feel so uneasy about the whole thing, but he knew that he really didn't want to.

“Maybe you'll get some sleep if you do Draco, you have been awfully tired these past couple of days,” Pansy said softly, and he knew that she only meant well, but he didn't like the thought anyway.

“I'm fine,” he snapped at her.

“I think we should wait and see if Malfoy has to sleep in the same room as Harry or not,” Granger stated, looking troubled. “It’s possible that if they stay close enough during the day they won’t have to do the same at night.”

Theo did not look happy at all by Granger's statement, but said nothing.

“I think you should sit next to Harry in class fromnow on, Malfoy,” she said and Draco groaned.

“It will never end. Can't 13th come soon enough?”

“I think we should be heading to class now,” Granger stood up and packed her bag. “And don't worry, Malfoy. I'll tell Harry.”

“There's nothing to tell,” Draco mumbled, but no one heard him and that was just as good.

As predicted, Potter did not look happy about the seating arrangement, so at least Draco didn't have to suffer alone.

“This is getting more and more crazy by the minute,” Potter muttered as they sat down next to each other at Charms.

“Tell me about it.”

“Why do we have todo this again?”

“Specify your question.”

“Why do I have to sit next to you?” Potter looked upset, and that ticked Draco off and he snapped back;

“Why, do you have some kind of problem? With me, maybe?”

“Yes I have a problem with you!” Potter growled, “My girlfriend broke up with me because of you, I have to follow you around like a dog and I – ” Potter's face suddenly became red and he turned his head away.

“And you what?” Draco snarled.

“Nothing, forget it.”

“You were just about to insult me, and you tell me to forget it?!”

“Lay off, Malfoy!” Potter jerked his head to look at him again, still blushing.

Draco was just about to say something about Potter being pathetic for blushing and something poisonous to spice the whole argument up, when Flitwick walked in and cut their fight off with teaching.

The rest of their classes, not to mention dinner, were spent in dead silence from both of them as they just glared at one another and snapped at their friends.

 

.:X:.

 

A silent war was declared just before Charms, and Harry was not going to break it. He had wanted to slap himself before, because in the heat of argument he had been seconds away from saying something like “I like you” to Malfoy, maybe even more than that – with he most certainly  _didn't_ ! It was just his mind playing pranks on him, making him think that Malfoy was nice or handsome or whatever, it was not his  common __ sense speaking. No, definitely not.

But even so,  that did nothing to answer why the two of them were sitting in an empty common room that evening when everybody else had gone to bed, staring at each other, both with a book in their hands that they were pretending to read . Harry could see that Malfoy was tired, as he had dark  lines under his eyes making him look like a vampire in the fire light.

In the end, he found that he couldn't make Malfoy stay up all night because he was  holding a really silly grudg _**e** _ , so he sighed and stood up.

“We should go to bed,” he said and Malfoy smirked, as if to tell Harry that he had won. Fine, Harry thought, give the jerk something to smirk about, at least you can go to bed now.

Harry walked shoulder to shoulder with Malfoy in the small corridor to the dorms, and suddenly Malfoy stopped, making Harry turn around.

“What?” he asked.

“Some idiots there are in this year,” Malfoy mumbled and Harry was just about to ask what the hell he was talking about when he saw how the blond was looking up. Harry felt his stomach drop before he even followed Malfoy's gaze, knowing what it was before he even looked. And to his horror, he was right. Mistletoe hung above them from the ceiling, demanding everyone that walked under it hadto kiss.

When he looked down again he found Malfoy's grey eyes staring at him, and it took his breath away for a second.

“It doesn't seem like it's charmed,” Malfoy said, and didn't look away from Harry, who felt like he was in the middle of a thunderstorm.

“It probably isn't,” he heard himself answer.

“So we could probably walk away from here without aproblem, if we wanted to.”

“Yeah, if we wanted to,” Harry repeated, and in one single movement, they both stepped forward and Harry's lips found Malfoy's. He closed his eyes and slipped his arms around Malfoy's waist and shoulders, clenching their chests together. He felt so solid against Harry, so unlike Ginny who was tiny in Harry's arms and who he was afraid of breaking.

He felt Malfoy's arms coming up and his hands in Harry's hair, tipping his head over gently to deepen the kiss. Harry opened his mouth and sucked on Malfoy's bottom lip making him moan slightly into Harry's mouth, and it was one of the greatest sounds Harry had ever heard. Malfoy opened his mouth and before he knew it his tongue was  slipping into Harry’s mouth , making him forget all about air and everything else around him. It was just Malfoy in this world, only him that mattered, and Harry kissed him for dear life, wanting to show what  he couldn’t even put into words yet .

After some time, one of them drew away and Harry finally remembered that air was important.  They had only a few inches between them and Harry could feel Malfoy’s breath on his face.

As he opened his eyes, all he saw was thunder, in all shades of grey and Harry had to lean forward and kiss him again when he realized that yes; he was utterly and most definitely in love with Draco Malfoy.


	17. Chapter 17

_Led by the light of faith serenely beaming,_

_with glowing hearts by His cradle we stand._

“ _Oh Holy Night”, John Sullivan Dwight_




 

_Like it would mean anything._

But he kissed me again...

_Do you think that he would ever actually look at you that way?_

He did...

_Why would he? What would anyone see in you?_

I, I –

_There is nothing to it is there?_

_You're worthless._

_And you're definitely not worthy of him._

No, no, no, no, no, no, no –

“DRACO!”

 

.:X:.

 

With a loud gasp Draco jerked awake, panting for air.

“Are you awake now?” a gentle voice asked, a voicethat did not belong there, and his eyes flew open. They meet green eyes sointense in their colour that Draco thought they were glowing.

“Potter. What are you doing here?” He tried to wrap his head around this. Potter was in his room, in the middle of the night, and had just asked if he was okay. Was this some kind of joke?

“I brought him,” someone said behind Potter, and Draco saw Theo standing there.

“What?” Draco said, still a little dazed.

“We couldn't wake you.” Corner was standing by the other side of the bed with a concerned look on his face. _What the hell?_ “So Nott fetched Potter, and well, he managed to wake you up.”

“Are you sure you're fine, Malfoy? You were beating Harry's Scream of Deathby far.”

Draco looked up to find Weasley and Longbottom standing in the door to his dorm, looking down on him.

“Is the entire year going to come around soon or what?” Draco snapped irritably.

“I think they missed the invitation,” Potter tried a bad joke, and Draco couldn't help but find it funny, and smiled a little.

“So what happens now?” Corner asked.

“I think your argument that just sleeping with the light on is a bit weakened now, Draco. You have to sleep in the same room as Potter if any of us are going to get some sleep,” Theo said and all the Gryffindors just went “ _What?!_ ”

“He can have my bed,” Longbottom suddenly spoke up, and Draco glared at him.

“And why would I want to sleep in your bed?”

“It's mine or Ron's, and you don't want to sleep in Ron's bed, believe me.”

Draco stopped and thought for a moment about how much the world had changed. Neville Longbottom was not only talking directly to him, looking him in the eye as he did, but also offering Draco his bed and telling him to trust him. Life was really randomly surprising sometimes.

“He'll do it,” Theo answered for Draco and unceremoniously grabbed his arm and dragged him out of bed. Fortunately Potter had moved in the last second, so Draco wouldn't have to fall on his face, or worse, on top of Potter.

The next few minutes were spent with Theo gathering all Draco needed to live in Potter's dorm until the 13th and Neville going back to his dorm to do the same.

“This is so weird,” Weasley commented, and Draco caught himself agreeing. “Why is Nott packing all your stuff, can't you do it yourself?” he then asked Draco. In another context Draco would have gladlycut Weasley's head off and fed it to the werewolves but right now he didn't have the energy to bother.

“I can, but for some reasonhe always seem like he wants to do it for me, so I let him. And he always seems to know what I need, more than I do sometimes.”

“That's right Draco, I always know what you need, never forget you said that yourself justnow. I have a witness.” Theo held up Draco's school bag that had all his books in it, not just the ones he needed for the day, and another bag undoubtedly full of clothes and other necessities.

“I didn't mean it that way, git.” He snatched his belongings out of Theo's hands.

“Wow, a Slytherin fight,” Weasley commented and Draco and Theo shared a wicked look and then looked back at Weasley with devilish smirks on their faces.

“Want to try?” Theo tipped his head to the side.

“Because we would be happy to give you nightmares.” Draco continued.

“Okay! Now you're creeping me out!” Weasley’s eyes were wide and he took a hesitant step backward as Draco and Theo showed their teeth.

“Just wait, now that we're going to sleep in the same room you should learn how to sleep with your eyes open.”

“You can do that?” Potter asked in surprise, making Draco turn.

“I'm trying to freak your friend out, shut up,” he drawled but the look on Potter's face made him crack up, which only made Potter chuckle too.

Just then, Longbottom showed up in the doorway __ again with a stuffed school bag and his uniform hanging over his shoulder.

“All set?” he asked no one inparticular.

“As ready as we'll ever be.” Potter took Draco's school bag out of his hands before Draco even had the time to react and hewas left staring dumbly at Potter's back as he walked away.

“Have fun with the Gryffindors, Draco,” Theo sneered and Draco shot one of his coldest glares before he turned around and gracefully stormed out of the room, annoyed that he has to sleep in the same room as those Gryffindors from now on.Weasley, who clearlydidn't fancy staying in the Slytherin dorm (which happened to include a Ravenclaw, but really, what difference did that make?) quickly said something encouraging to his Longbottom and then got the hell out of there, trying to catch up with Draco and Potter.

“So, here we are,” Potter said and dropped Draco's bag right on the floor next to an empty bed. “That's Neville's bed, and over there is Ron's and that's mine.”

“Figured as much.” This dorm had the exact same layout as Draco's; three beds in a line, but Potter slept in the middle this time, as Draco slept in the middle in his dorm.

He heard sheets rustle as Potter and Weasley climbed into their beds, and Draco dumped this bad next to Longbottom's, deciding that he would unpack tomorrow.

“Good night _,_ ” both the Gryffindors mumbled and Draco did the same, and then lay down in Longbottom's bed. It smelled like plants and dirt, and even though Draco would rather die than admit it to anyone, he found it quite soothing.

 

.:X:.

 

“Draco, can I talk to you?” he heard Pansy's voice ask behind him, and he got up from the Gryffindor table and his breakfast, because the sound in her voice said that he had no otheroption.

“Sure, hassomething happened?”

She blushed and looked over the table, but the only one that had looked up was Potter sitting next to Draco, and he had looked down again when he saw that it was Pansy.

“Has something _happened_?!” she  spluttered. “I was going to look if you had left for breakfast yet, because I wanted to talk to you about something, and Neville freaking _Longbottom_ was standing shirtless in _your dorm_ when I opened the door! What the fuck, Draco?!”

Draco had a hard time not laughing  about Pansy’s obvious embarrassment  and he couldn't wait to see Longbottom just so he could taunt him about it.

“Ah, well, he and I switched beds last night, so I didn't sleep with him if that's what you thought.”

The look in Pansy's eyes told him that she had in fact considered it.

“And why would you switch beds in the middle of the night?” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“Because Theo thought that I should sleep in Potter's dorm, and Longbottom suggested that I would

rather sleep in his bed than Weasley's. And quite frankly, I'd rather have Longbottom sleep in  _my_ bed than any Weasley at all.”

“Fine, but tell me these kind of things before stuff like that happens.” Pansy poked a finger none too gently at his chest.

“Are you saying that I should wake you up in the middle of the night to prevent you from _maybe_ walking in on a shirtless Longbottom?”  Draco feigned incredulousness.

“Yes, no – er...” Pansy trailed off as her just-fading blush returned.

“Perhaps, it was because it was Longbottom that you found it so embarrassing? If it had been Weasley you would have just been surprised, hm?” Draco speculated out loud, relishing the opportunity to unbalance Pansy.

“Well – ”

“Maybe it's because you fancy him?” Draco casually drawled.

Pansy blinked. __ “I do not!”

“Please, love. I've known you since we were eleven, and I knew long before you confessed that you liked _me_ , and I know that you don't react like that around just anyone.” Draco smirked his trademark Malfoy smirk.

“Oh yeah?” Pansy challenged, with just a hint of vulnerability underneath.

“Yes. And he looks like he feels the same way about you.” Draco sighed. A Pansy – Longbottom love affair may have been one of his more immature nightmares.

“And how can you tell that?” Pansy bit out.

“Turn around.”

Pansy did so and just then Longbottom, who had come down for breakfast and was __ about to drink his pumpkin juice, looked up and saw Pansy staring at him. He choked and started to cough furiously.

“Are you okay, Neville?” Thomas, who was sitting beside him, asked as he slammed a fist against his back to help.

“Yeah,” Longbottom rasped, “I'm fine.”

“See?” Draco smirked at Pansy.

“That doesn't mean anything,” she said stubbornly.

“Stop being so embarrassed about the whole thing! Where's the girl that would make an innuendo outof everything?”

“She's gone on holiday, so you're stuck with me,” Pansy replied sourly.

“Apparently. So, can I eat my breakfast now?”

“Yes, I'll see you later –”

“Oh, you're going to sit next to me, love.” He cut her off and dragged her down beside him.

“You're a terrible person,” she sniffed.

“You love it.” He grinned back at her.

Potter finally __ seemed to notice the awkward atmosphere that Draco  was trying to pointedly ignore , and leaned over and whispered to him;

“Is there something I missed?”

Shivers ran down Draco's back as he felt Potter's hot breath in his ear, but he ignored it and whispered back.

“Pansy walked in on a shirtless Longbottom and they are both being incredibly awkward about it.” Potter chuckled beside him and looked at Longbottom.

“Well, I guess we just have to encourage them to talk to each other and sooner or later...” Potter grinned conspiratorially at Draco.

“Yeah.” Draco sighed dramatically.

 

Draco wondered if Potter was ever going to kiss him again, like he had last night. Because now, as he sat there and talked to him, he had to restrain himself from __ staring too long or think to much about Potter's soft, red lips . It had been wonderful, and he couldn't help but wonder if Potter had thought so too. If that look in his eyes meant something, like he though the kiss was special, like it was for Draco.


	18. Chapter 18

_Angels watching ever round thee  
All through the night  
In thy slumbers close surround thee  
All through the night  
They will of all fears disarm thee,  
No forebodings should alarm thee,  
They will let no peril harm thee  
All through the night._

“ _All though the night”, Edward Jones_




 

Harry didn't know quite how to act around Malfoy anymore. He had been relieved that Malfoy seemed relaxed and hadn't made a fuss about the whole kissing thing, but somehow it was also disappointing. Because it looked like Harry was the only one of them that thought about the kiss at all, and it annoyed the hell out of him.

And his revelation last night did not help either. He was in love.  With Draco sodding Malfoy . And it made sitting next to him in every class highly awkward.

He glanced over at Malfoy who was taking notes on Slughorn's lecture.

“Okay.” Draco suddenly looked up, startling Harry. “Do you even know what potion we're supposed to make today?” He raised an eyebrow at Harry, who once more questioned his sanity and _why_ it had to be _this_ git.

“O-of course,” Harry stammered, and then mentally kicked himself.

Draco's lips twitched.  “Great, tell me.”

“Don't you know yourself, Malfoy?” Harry said defensively.

“No, I was too busy staring at my potions partner to listen.” Malfoy allowed his lips to form a wicked grin. _Crap._

“Fuck you, Malfoy.”

Malfoy’s grin turned triumphant __ and Harry felt his cheeks turn red  as he mentally kicked himself again for his poor choice of words.

“We're making the antidote for Veritaserum, so you gather the ingredients and chopand I'll do the hard stuff, okay?”

“Fine.” Harry rolled his eyes.

They worked in silence, apart from when Malfoy would suddenly say something like “I'll need those roots soon, get them done,” or criticise Harry's chopping. He found that despite Malfoy being his usual git self, it was rather nice to have him as a potions partner. He knew exactly what to do, unlike Ron, and didn't think twice before saying that Harry was doing something wrong, unlike Hermione. And Ron and Hermione were given potions partners now that they were finally together, so that left Harry with Neville or someone else who he didn't quite know how to work with.

And every time Harry felt Malfoy's elbow brush against him by accident or when their legs bumped into __ each other, Harry would feel a thrill ripple through him. Just the thought of sitting so close to Malfoy that they accidentally touched one another made Harry smile. And he felt like grinning like an idiot when he saw a small blush on Malfoy's otherwise so pale face when it happened.

“So,” Malfoy said after a while, “Now it's done.”

“Really?” Harry started, he had lost track of time, measuring it only in the number of times he could get that blush to appear on Malfoy’s cheeks.

“Well yes, we have been working on it for a hour, it better be or I'm going to seriously hurt someone.”

“I hope you're not talking about me.”

“I was thinking more like some random first year.”

“Really, Malfoy? Think I'd let you do that?” Harry tensed.

“It was a joke, Potter.” He smiled at Harry then, and he felt his breath caught in this throat.

“Oh...” he managed to say. “Did you sleep well, by the way?” he changed the subject.

“Yes, thank you for asking.”

 

The whole day continued without much happening other than Harry and Malfoy accidentally touching each other. Before Harry knew it, evening had come and they were  getting ready for bed.

Malfoy was completely destroying the daily routine that Harry, Ron and Neville had developed over the school year by hogging the bathroom more than what was considered normal for an  average teenage boy.

“God, Malfoy! What are you even doing in there?!” Ron was getting really pissed off. Harry had been smart enough to go in before Malfoy, thinking that this might happen.

With a loud bang, the door to the toilet flew open and Malfoy stood there, in black silk  pyjama bottoms , a Slytherin green t-shirt with a toothbrush in his hand and toothpaste in the corner of his mouth. Harry found himself staring at him, his pulse raising and blood going south.

“What does it _look_ like I'm doing, Weasley?”  Malfoy said around a mouthful of toothpaste. Harry thought the word “adorable” and then promptly wanted to obliviate himself.

“You’ve been brushing your teeth for thirty blood minutes?!” Ron ranted.

“Of course not, what do you take me for?”

“A vain, self-absorbed ferret?” Ron suggested, and was given one of the darkest looks he had ever seen on Malfoy's face.

“You shouldn't have said that you know. Because I have the bathroom, and if you ever wish me to get out of it, maybe you have to be a little more nice.” Draco sneered.

“You're such a wanker.”

“You know,” Malfoy leaned against the doorframe, which did not at all help Harry with his growing problem, and he was ever so thankful that he was in bed under his blanket with a book in his hands, “I could just point out that you should be used to this problem considering how many siblings you have, but I’m going to refrain because you really aren’t worth the effort.” And with that Malfoy slammed the bathroom door shut.

“Did you see that?!” Ron pointed at the door, looking enraged at Harry. For a moment Harry thought that Ron meant how outrageously hot Malfoy had looked, but he soon figured that was not it.

“I _can_ hear you, you know!” Malfoy shouted from the bathroom.

“Piss off Malfoy!”

“Can only wish you the same, Weasley.”

“Guys, you need to stop it! Malfoy, please finish in there so we can go to bed. Ron, shut up.” Harry finally found his voice and words that actually made sense. Ron just gaped at him like he was insane for telling him to shut up and Malfoy opened the door moments later.

“Did you actually say 'please'?” he asked.

“Er, did I?” He really didn't know.

“Yeah, you did,” Ron said and suddenly it dawned on him that maybe that was why Ron was gaping at him.

“All yours, Weasley.” Malfoy came out walked past Ron to Neville's bed, and Ron went quickly into the bathroom before Malfoy could say he was joking.

It somehow __ became really awkward after Malfoy had gotten into his bed, and they were both sitting there, waiting for Ron to come out so they could go to sleep. Not that they really needed to wait for him, and Harry could just continue to read his book, but somehow it felt wrong. Slowly he looked over at Malfoy who he saw laying there, staring up the ceiling.

“Are you okay?” he couldn't help but to ask.

“Yeah.” Malfoy didn't give much more, and it felt like there was this big, pink hippogriff in the room that they both were trying to ignore. For Harry, he knew exactly what that hippogriff meant to him, but be could not for the lift of him figure out what was going on in the Slytherin's head.

“What are you thinking about?” he blurted out, being the Gryffindor thathe was.

“I'm –” Malfoy started, but then stopped and closed his eyes, “I'm thinking about how Longbottom's bed smells like one of the greenhouses,” he finished.

“Yes, well that's Neville for you. I think that he –”

“Could you – could you just stop talking?” Malfoy interrupted, “I get, being you, you try to be nice and all, but if you don't really have anything specific that you want to say to me, could you just –” he broke off, not opening his eyes to even look at Harry when he said it.

“Fine, whatever Malfoy.” He felt as if he'd just been stabbed right in his chest, and he put his book away and took off his glasses, turning off his lamp and laying down. Fine. If Malfoy didn't want to talk to him at all, then Harry shouldn't bother. Apparently that kiss meant nothing to Malfoy, even though it had meant everything to Harry.

Still, those thoughts hurt, and Harry shut his eyes, trying to ignore the sound of Malfoy's soft breathing or his very presence, but failing miserably.

He heard the bathroom door open and Ron's footsteps as he walked to his own bed. Harry didn't have to open his eyes to know that Ron was looking at him, wondering if something was wrong, because usually Harry read or talked to Ron before sleeping. But then he heard his friend get into his bed, and saw under his eyelids how he turned the light off.

“Good night, Harry,” Ron said hesitantly.

“Good night, Ron.”

“Night, Malfoy.”

“Look forward to me waking you up in a few hours,” was Malfoy's good night, and after a long time spent trying not to think about Malfoy, Harry fell asleep, his last thought about Draco's angel-voice.

 

.:X:.

 

Harry jolted out of bed and ran over to Malfoy's side before he even realized he was awake. Malfoy's scream was just like the one the night before, and he remembered waking up to Nott storming into his dorm shouting his name and that Malfoy needed him.  Without thought he had __ flown out of bed and had run to Malfoy's dorm, hearing Malfoy's cries of horror  echo through the hall on the way there .

“Malfoy!” The blond was trembling and twisting in his sheets, and Harry took a hold of him and dragged him into his arms, with Malfoy’s chest against hisdesperate to get him to stop shaking. It was almost worse than the scream, to see Malfoy so defenceless and writhing as if under torture.

“Malfoy, _please_!” he shouted and felt him jerk in his arms but Harry held him close hoping Malfoy could understand that he was there, that he was safe with Harry.

“Draco,” he whispered against the shell of his ear, the name drowned by Draco's scream, “Draco, please look at me. I'm here, wake up Draco.”

He felt trembling arms close around his waist, warm and heavy, and it was when Draco lay his head down on Harry's shoulder and breathed heavily in his ear that Harry realized he had stopped screaming.

Instead of pulling away and politely but coldly thanking Harry and implying that he wanted to get back to sleep now  which Harry expected , Malfoy grabbed Harry back,  burying himself against Harry's chest. It only made Harry  squeeze him even tighter .

“You okay?” he whispered, and he felt Malfoy nod against his sternum.

He didn't know for how long they sat there, the only sound was Ron's snoring, apparently he was used to Harry's screams and therefore could sleep through Draco's as well, __ but after a while Harry's legs were starting to go numb from sitting in an awkward position for too long and Harry felt that maybe it was time to go back to bed. Taking a deep breath, he lightened his grip around Malfoy and started to pull away, but Malfoy just held on to him even harder.

“Please don't leave me...” Malfoy whispered, a voice so small it could barelybe heard over Ron's snoring. “Don't...”

He looked up then, right into Harry's eyes and Harry was lost. How could he say no to anything this bloke asked for, how could he try to tell himself that he did not care about what Draco thought? Because he did, so much.

Harry let out a breath that he hadn't realized that he had been holding, and leaned his forehead against Draco's, looking into those eyes that were crystal clear from this distance without glasses.

“Of course,” he whispered.

 

That night he fell asleep holding Draco as close to him as he could possibly manage, their bodies tangled together, feeling Draco's breath wash over his face, smelling like toothpaste and apples. And thinking about how much he loved him.


	19. Chapter 19

_Ding dong merrily on high,_

_In heav'n the bells are ringing:_

_Ding dong! verily the sky_

_Is riv'n with angel singing._

_Gloria, Hosanna in excelsis!_

“ _Ding Dong Merrily on High”, George Ratcliffe Woodward_

 

Usually, Draco was a person who could sleep all day if he was allowed to. So naturally, when he woke up one hour before he had to get up, he would fall asleep again. But this time, it was different.

Draco had woken up to the warmth of another person embracing him and a soft breath against his face. At first he had just pushed himself even closer, feeling arms tighten around him and the body under his hands pull him closer.

But of course moments like this did not last forever, and he had opened his eyes to find Potter's sleeping face only inches away from his. He froze and just stared with wide eyes, but soon realized that it made no difference, Potter was still there.

He remembered last night, how he felt as if he would fall apart if Potter hadn't held him together, and how lost and devastated he was when Potter started to pull away. He needed him. Longed for his touch, ached for his attention. And that's why he swallowed his pride and begged for Potter to keep holding him, because he didn't know if he could cope without him there. And when he had looked so softly at him with those green eyes and said that he wouldn't let him go, Draco had felt warmth rush through his body. Potter would stay with him.

With a loud sigh Draco closed his eyes and tried to shut Potter out and think rationally, but it was impossible with him breathing on Draco and his body so close to Draco. With a sigh he gave up and decided to stare at __ Potter's sleeping face instead.

He looked so at peace on the pillow, his hair all over the place, wild as ever. Draco couldn't help but gently __ run his hand through it, just __ to feel the soft texture. Because, just liked he had reckoned, Potter's hair was soft under his fingers. He saw Potter lean in to his touch, and it made Draco's heart beat faster. Slowly, green eyes opened, first with sleepiness, that changed to confusion, to realization and Draco held his breath, waiting for Potter to pull away.

But he didn't. Instead he let out a breath, and blinked, looking at Draco like he wasn't real.

“Sleep well?” Potter whispered softly.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

And they just lay there, bodies still tangled together and Draco's hand still in Potter's hair, looking like  neither of them knew what to do . Draco wondered why Potter wouldn't pull away, why he wouldn't excuse himself and go to the bathroom or just move an inch away – why he  was still hugging __ Draco like he had when they were sleeping. Why he didn't want to demand Potter get the hell out of his bed he didn't even want to think about.

There were too many questions , and Draco disliked __ not knowing where he stood. That's why it had been so unbearable last night, when Potter had tried to talk to him. Draco had made him stop because he didn't know how to respond. Because he didn't know what he meant to Potter if he meant anything at all. And he didn't want to get his hopes up, in case Potter still hated him despite everything.

“So – ” Potter began but Draco couldn't bear another conversation of small-talk about nothing.

“What am I to you?” Draco asked harshlyand Potter abruptly stopped talking, looking at him with wide eyes. Then Potter looked away, biting his lip, hesitating.

“You know,” he said after a moment, “Hermione told me that the reason a particular person is chosen to be Staffan is because he or she is most likely to have feelings regarding Lucia and therefore will be the most protective,” he mumbled.

“When did she say that?” Draco felt his heart beat faster again, looking at Potter's blushing face, while hestill refused to meet his eyes.

“The day we kissed under that mistletoe...” 

“Was she right, then?” Draco demanded, “Or do you still hate me after all?”

“I – ” he broke off, and finally met Draco's eyes, “I love you.”

Deep down Draco knew that those were the words that he had wanted,  _needed_ to hear so badly, but he had never even let himself think  of the possibility of that happening .

Potter looked at him with searching eyes, like he was trying to find anything that would tell him what Draco was thinking, and Draco felt himself soften inside. Gently, he used his hand that was still in Potter's hair to pull his face closer and made their lips meet.

Potter gasped  the tiniest bit and Draco took the opportunity to push his tongue into his mouth, trying to say with the kiss the feelings that he couldn't attach with words. It was a glorious feeling when Potter kissed him back. He felt those arms tighten around him once more, felt wanted, felt loved.

He had imagined that their kiss would be an epic battle, but it felt more like  a dance __ as they moved together as one, and he felt Potter move on top of him. He let his hands wander down Potter's back, feeling him moan into Draco's mouth. He deepened the kiss, and the soft gentleness became  passionate and laced with heat __ and Draco pushed himself up into Potter's chest. Potter must have been thinking the same thing, because his body met __ Draco halfway and together they fell down  lengthwise onto the bed.

Draco turned his head away, gasping for air that turned into a moan as he felt lips against his throat, sucking. Before he knew it, his hands were in Potter's hair and on his shoulders, desperately trying to prevent him from pulling away. He was growing hard and when he shifted he felt that Potter had the same problem.

Just then, Potter pulled away, despite Draco's hold. He held himself up over Draco with his elbow on either side of him,  his entire body __ still only inches away. His eyes were amazed, like he couldn't believe that Draco was there, under him.

“What – what am I to you, then?” he asked softly, and Draco blushed furiously, which caused Potter to smile.

But what was Potter for him really? He was suddenly at a loss for words.

“I don't know...” he whispered and wished that he could turn away, but those green eyes wouldn't let him go. He saw hurt flash in them, then it was quickly covered by acceptance.

“It's okay,” Potter said and smiled, even though it looked rather forced, “I probably wouldn't have come to the realization if Hermione and Neville hadn't pointed out that I might be.” He started to sit up, but Draco dragged him down on top of him again, and Potter's weight knocked the breath out of him. Potter's face was so close to him that it was becoming blurry, but that was just fine by Draco.

“I'm sorry.” He hated how his voice sounded so small, but pushed the thought away. “I – I didn't dare to think about such things as what I felt for you, because if it wasn't mutual I didn't want to get hurt and – ”

Potter cut him off with a kiss, and for perhaps the first time in his life he appreciated that someone was shutting him up. He felt Potter cup his cheeks and run his fingers through his __ hair, and oh god he was getting  _ harder _ .

“You know, we should stop right now, or I might ravish you right here in Neville's bed with Ron snoring beside us,” Potter mumbled against his lips.

“What a brilliant cockblock, Potter,”he said and felt a shiver run down his back, one of the decidedly unpleasant kind.

“Please, can't you at least call me Harry?”

“Fine. Harry.”

Potter's smile was glowing and Draco felt smug, knowing that he had caused that.

Just then Weasley grumbled really loudly and both of them turned their heads to look at him. Thankfully, he didn't seem to be awake just yet.

“So, what happens now?” Potter whispered against Draco’s cheek.

“Firstly; you are going to get off me if you don't want Weasley to find us like this, and tell Longbottom about it over tea and crumpets. Secondly; we are going to go to breakfast.”

Slowly, Harry started to sit up, and Draco missed him already.

“Are we really gonna get up now?” he asked Draco.

“It's – ten minutes until we have to get up anyway, so yes.” Actually, if Weasley hadn't been in the room right there and then, Draco was quite sure that he wouldn't haveeven _let_ Harry get up, in fact he might have trapped him in the bed all day. Not that Harry would have complained, he reckoned.

 

.:X:.

 

It had certainly been one of the best mornings of Harry's life.

He had felt fingers gently running through his hair, and a warm body in his arms. When he had __ opened his eyes they had met thunder grey ones, and fuck, if Harry hadn't realized he was already in love with Draco, he would have right then and there.

And then Draco had asked him what he was to Harry, and of course he couldn't tell him __ anything but the truth. And he had been so afraid that Draco wouldn't accept him – and then Draco had kissed him. It was perfect.

They hadn't told anybody about anything that was going on between them, and somehow, Harry was thankful for that. He needed some time to let everything sink in.

 

Choir had just ended and Harry, Draco, Ron, Hermione, Nott, Parkinson and Neville were walking to the Great Hall all together, talking. Harry was listening to Nott telling Draco about something weird he had read the other night, and Harry couldn't help but to think of him as Luna plus Hermione –  really quite smart, but full of odd facts.

“Malfoy!” Harry spun around, wand at the ready and saw Ginny storming over, her eyes pinned on Draco.

“Yes?” Draco asked, looking questioningly at Ginny.

“Can I talk to you?” There was something in her voice that Harry didn't like, but he couldn't pinpoint it.

“Sure,” Draco said as heslowly walked up to her, scanning her face. She turned around and started walking away, but Draco stopped dead and the whole group watched as he crossed his arms.

“In private,” Ginny turned around and snapped.

“I'm afraid I can't do that. If you want no one to hear you, you'll have to settle for a silence charm.” Draco did not at all sound sorry.

“Fine!” she snapped and drew her wand, but her words disappeared into silence and Harry saw her mouth moving but no sound reached his ears. He had a good view of both their profiles, and watched the two of them open and close their mouths at each other.

“What is going on, really?” Ron asked out loud, but no one turned to look at him.

“No idea,” Harry said.

“What do you think your girlfriend wants?” Nott asked, and this time, Harry actually looked away from Draco and Ginnyand met Nott's gaze.

“She's not my girlfriend any more,” he retorted.

“ _What?!_ ” everyone except Ron burst out.

“What happened?” Hermione took his hand like she was trying to comfort him.

“She broke up with me,” was all Harry said, and Harry got a look from herthat said this conversation was not over.

“Why aren't you surprised Ron?” she asked instead and glanced over at her boyfriend.

“He kind of told me...” Ron didn’t meet her eyes.

“Then _why_ didn't _you_ tell _me_ about it?” Hermione snapped, but Harry wasn't listening to their quarrel any more, his eyes were wide and alert, fixed on Draco and Ginny in front of him.

There was something wrong. Very wrong.

The look on Ginny's face did not belong there, she looked cold and evil, like a ruthless killer. Draco was crumbling right in front of him, he could see Draco's mouth forming the same word again and again.

It was not Ginny there. Shit.

“ _Stupefy!_ ” Harry shouted and watched Ginny collapse to the ground.

“ _Harry!_ ” he heard someone exclaim, but it didn't matter, all that mattered was Draco, and Harry rushed over to him before anyone could demand an explanation aboutwhy the hell he hadjust hexed Ginny. Draco was staring at Ginny's fallen body and Harry grabbed his shoulders.

“Are you okay?” he asked but Draco just looked at him with wide, frightened eyes, and Harry realized that the silencing charm hadn't faded away.

“ _Fine Incantatem,_ ” He cast, and all of a sudden he could hear Draco's panting.

“Are you okay?” he asked again, and Draco's legs just seemed to give way but Harry steadied him. “It's okay, I'm sorry,” he whispered and held Draco tight.

“What the fuck Harry?!” Ron burst out, and for the first time, Harry looked up to see everyone watching them.

“That was not Ginny.” Harry nodded towards Ginny's body.

“What the hell do you mean 'not Ginny'?!” Ron yelped.

“He's right,” Draco said. He seemed to have recovered quite quickly, and withdrew from Harry's embrace. “That may be Ginny Weasley's body, but that wasn't her.”

“What happened to my sister?!” Ron was hysterical, which Harry could understand, and Ron fell on his knees next to Ginny and reached out to her.

“Don't touch her!” Draco hit Ron's hand and fell down opposite Ron with Ginny in the middle. Slowly, Draco reached out himself and touched Ginny's forehead with one finger, but then snatched it away, hissing like he had burned himself. Ron was glaring at Draco, thinking perhaps that Draco had just done that because he was disgusted with Ginny, but Harry knew Draco was but Harry knew Draco was the only one who truly understood what was happening.

Draco pulled out his wand and cast  _Lumos Maxima_ over Ginny, making Harry blink, because it had been so bright.

“Don't murder me Weasley,” Draco finally metRon's eyes, “but your sister was possessed by darkness, and it was not her that talked to me. If you touch her, the darkness might leave her and go straight into you instead, and we don't want that.”

“What makes you so sure?” Ron asked critically.

“I've read something about it.” Draco answered cryptically.

“It's true, Ron. He showed me the text,” Hermione said. “What to we do now?” She then turned to Draco.

“We take Weasley, the younger, to the Tower and get the dark out of her.” And with that Draco heaved Ginny up in his arms and stood up, not looking quite happy about carrying Ginny at all. Ginny's hair swayed as Draco carried her through the castle, and Harry and the others followed Draco, Ron grumbling something along the way.

Harry watched Draco's face closely to find just how much this had affected him, but Draco' s face was completely unreadable .

 

.:X:.

 

If someone had __ asked her, Ginny  would have said that she didn't __ remember anything from yesterday. The last think she  _did_ remember was Harry and Malfoy walking in to breakfast together and sitting down next to each other. She remembered feeling like someone had __ stabbed a knife into her stomach. And then when she walked to class alone, it all suddenly went black.

It was like she was surrounded by endless darkness. She couldn't __ hear anything, feel anything, nor make a sound. It was like time had stopped and she wasn't even sure if she was alive or dead.

Then, suddenly, she heard something. A clear tune, a small whisper somewhere beyond the thick wall that surrounded her. Ginny focused on that sound, hoping for the life of her that it was real and that it would guide her out of this darkness.

“ _... jag såg ett sken, jag såg ett ljus,_

_jag såg en syn, jag såg en dröm...”_

She didn't understand the words, but it didn't matter, as a light began to shine somewhere in her sight. Suddenly she could breathe again, and she stared at the light, knowing that it was her way out of the darkness.

“ _... nu står du här med tanke och med kraft, och jag kan se vad ljuset ger mig...”_

Slowly her senses were returning to her, and Ginny became aware that someone was singing to her. That voice that guided her was a person, and he was standing right in front of her.

“ _... ljusets kraft är jul...”_

They were not alone, she thought. She could hear something else, aside from the song, someone whispering. She g rumbled in her throat and heard a groan from somewhere near, just before she realized that it came from her.

“I think it's working!” said a voice that was familiar, like she had grown up with it.

“ _... Lucia. Lucia...”_

She could feel her fingertips again, and the world was starting to come into __ focus. She tried to move, but felt as if she was  trapped in her own body . Panic started to spread through her veins, what the hell was she going to do?!

“ _... jag såg ett ljus.”_ Slowly, her eyes opened almost by themselves, and she had to shut them again because everything was so bright.

“Look at me,” a voice said. The singing voice. But somehow she recognized it from somewhere – though she couldn't for the life of her tell where. But she obeyed the voice, it had gotten her out of the dark, she could trust it.

She blinked a few times, trying to adapt to the new light, and she saw a blond figure right before her. A male.

Like lightning striking her head , she finally realized who it was standing before her, and also the one that had sung.

“... Malfoy?” Her own voice was just a whisper and she felt pathetic. But Malfoy looked her in the eyes, and his gaze was neither mocking nor spiteful. He searched her features for something. Ginny looked around and saw many people around them. Ron, who she guessed she had heard over Malfoy's song, Harry, Hermione, Neville, but also Parkinson and Nott for some reason.

Then she felt something against her cheek, and her eyes snapped back to Malfoy who was cupping her  face with his hands . What the _fuck_ ?!

“She's fine,” he said and drew away, and the next second, Ron was embracing her in a suffocating bear hug.

“Bloody hell, Ginny! Are you okay? _Merlin_ , you gave me a fright!”

“Ron, let her go, you won't have a sister left if you hug her like that.” Hermione came to Ginny’s rescue.

“I'm fine, Ron,” she tried to reassure her brother, but he wasn't having any of it.

“Malfoy, are you _sure_ that it's all gone?” He looked over Ginny's head at Malfoy, and Ginny turned to look at him, and felt a stab when she saw Harry standing beside the Slytherin. It felt just like dinner after she had broken up with Harry, how he had walked in to the Great Hall and sat down at the _Slytherin_ table, next to Malfoy. Sure, she saw what was going on between the two. She had watched Harry fall in love with Cho, watched him fall in love with her, she knew the signs. But it still hurt to let him go.

“ _Yes_ Weasley, I'm one hundred percent sure,” Malfoy snarled, and somehow Ron seemed fine with it.

“What is going on?!” she demanded, because this was all so confusing. Malfoy saving her with _song_ from endless darkness, touching her cheek to see if she was okay, Malfoy and Ron talking  not at each other’s throats, and wait – was she in the Eighth Year's _Tower_?!

“Can't tell you,” a choir of everyone in the room said at the exact same time.

“ _Why?!_ ” she snapped. “I've drowned in darkness, and been woken up by Malfoy fucking _singing_ to me! I wake up in the Eighth Year's Tower, Harry can't leave Malfoy's sight, you're all getting along, _what the fuck is going on?!_ ”

“Look Weasley, I get that you hatenot knowing, but you'll just have to wait,” Malfoy said, and Ginny glared furiously at him. It was all his fault, he seemed to be the key to this whole thing.

“Your friends really want to tell you, can't you see it written all over their faces?” he asked her. “But they can't, nor can I, or anyone for that matter, because if we do it'll ruin everything. You'll get your answers before Christmas, so for fucks sake, restrain yourself.”

“Before Christmas?”

“Before Christmas.” Malfoy nodded, and Harry gave Ginny a look that said that it was time to shut up now.

“How – how long was I gone?” she asked anyway, because she wanted to know.

“I don't know. But I'm guessing it started somewhere between last night and breakfast this morning, but that's just a guess.”

“How can you tell?”

“Don't ask.”

“Because you can't tell me?”

“Because my answer wouldn't make sense.”

Ginny was just about to ask Malfoy what the hell he was playing at, but Hermione interrupted. “I think it's time that we all get down to dinner now, don't you?” she asked no one in particular.

“Brilliant, Hermione. I'm starving!” Ron hugged his girlfriend, and together they started to walk. The rest of the group seemed to agree that dinner was in fact a great idea, and followed Ron and Hermione, but Ginny still had something to say.

“Malfoy, can I talk to you?” she asked. The ones remaining in the room; just Malfoy and Harry, froze on spot and turned slowly towards her.

“What?” she snapped.

“That's what you said before, when you – ” Harry tried to explain, and somehow she understood him.

“Sure.” Malfoy stepped forward and Harry's eyes widened, looking at Malfoy's back like he was mad. “No silence charm, though,” the blond said.

“Fine. Look Malfoy, if you hurt him, I don't care what happens, I'm going to kill you,” she whispered and hoped that Harry couldn't hear her. “I don't know what happened, but as long as Harry's happy it's fine. But if you hurt him, Malfoy...”

“You seem so sure that something is happening.” Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her, other than that his face was closed.

“I've watched him since he waseleven years old, known him for that long too. Lived under the same roof, experienced so many things, I know him. You may not show anything, but he does.”

Malfoy didn't say a thing, he just looked at her with cold eyes, and somehow it felt much more effective than anything she could think he might say.

“And thank you,” she said. “For saving me from things I'm not allowed to know of until Christmas.” She smiled a little, and she could see Malfoy's features soften, even if just a bit.

“You're welcome.” He nodded, and turned around.


	20. Chapter 20

_Änglarna ger oss hopp och tro  
sjunger om fred på vår jord  
allt som Gud aldrig övergav  
en stjärna lyser så klar_

_. . ._

_The angels give us hope and faith_

_singing about piece on earth_

_everything that God never abandoned_

_a star shine so bright._

_Original title: “En stjerne skinner i natt” (“A star shines tonight”), Eyind Skeie and Tore W. Aas, Swedish translation; “En stjärna lyser så klar” (“A star shine so bright”), Ingela “Pling” Forsman_

 

“What did she want?” Harry asked him as soon as the two of them sat down at the Slytherin table for dinner.

“She just wanted to thank me for saving her,” Draco answered, “and tell me if I hurt you she will kill me.” He smiled when thecolour drained away from Harry's face. “But honestly I think she will have to stand in line, her older brother would be the first to plot my death if I ever hurt you, it's just a fact.”

“That is supposed to be funny, and I supposecan see the joke in it, but I'm not laughing, Draco.” Harry said dryly.

Draco felt a flutter in his stomach when Harry said his given name, and he felt like smiling like a fool.

“Oh, Draco now is it?” Pansy grinned from across the table, and Draco knew that he was never going to hear the end of this, in retribution for taunting her aboutLongbottom. “When did this happen?”

“Er...” Harry hesitated.

“When you were out snogging Longbottom,” Draco said before Harry could say anything stupid. Pansy looked liked he'd just slapped her for a second, before turning red in both rage and embarrassment.

“You're such a bitch, Draco.” Harry choked on his pumpkin juice and started coughing which turned into a loud laugh.

“What on earth does he find so funny?” Daphne scowled at Harry.

“Oh, great Merlin.” Harry coughed before looking up, tears in his eyes from laughing or choking, or maybe both. “I'm never going to get tired of Pansy insulting Draco,” he said still chuckling.

Pansy gaped at the Gryffindor in front of her, but Harry was oblivious that he had just used Pansy's given name.

“Well,” Daphne said, obviously also noticing what Harry had said, “hope you wont ditch us as soon as the 13th is over with.”

“Oh, I don't think so.” Harry grinned, and Draco felt himself do the same, the two of them sharing a private joke. Under the table, he felt Harry bump his leg, and then let it stay there. Draco had no intention of moving away. It was oddly reassuring to have their legs together like that, touching so lightly from knee to hip. He thought about all that had happened the last 24 hours. He had gone to bed in Harry's dorm, woken up in Harry's arms, heard Harry telling him that he loved him... Snogged Harry in Neville Longbotton's bed... The dark had possessed Ginny Weasley and had almost broken him. He thought about saving Ginny Weasley, that same no-longer-possessed Ginny Weasley had threatened him and thanking had thanked him in the same conversation. It had really been a hell of a day. 

And he still didn't know how to respond to Harry's confession. He had said that he loved him.  _Loved_ him. Draco was still trying to get that into his head, but it seemed so surreal, yet obvious. The way he sometimes caught Harry looking at him, in  _that_ kind of way, they way Harry seemed to want to touch Draco all the time but restrained himself. It was obvious now that he knew it was there, but maybe Harry was just allowing it to show now that he  no longer had to hide his feelings .

 

.:X:.

 

“Should you really go intothe bathroom alone?” Harry asked when he and Draco hadstepped into the dorm. Ron had learned from yesterday and had rushed up to nabthe bathroom first when Draco hadhappened to yawn while reading a book.

“What? Want to see me half naked that badly?” Draco smirked at Harry who blushed furiously.

“No, I just think that maybe something could happen...” he mumbled, looking away from Draco's amused face. He could be such a bastard at times, that Slytherin, and Harry had to question his sanity.

“So how is it gonna be, Staffan? Fancy getting to know my bathroom ritual?” Draco waggled his eyebrows.

“You're such a wanker,” he snapped and dragged Draco into the bathroom with him, still worried about his safety, and with one backwards glance at Ron who was watching them with raised wide he closed the door.

“You really just _had_ to say that didn't you?” Harry hissed through his teeth.

“Of course.” Draco smiled ever so sweetly.

“Fuck you Malfoy.”

“Oh really now?”

“Could you just shut up?” he pleaded.

“Make me.” Draco's self-satisfied smirk was too much for Harry and he needed to wipe it offhis face.

Naturally he yanked Draco forward and placed an open-mouth kiss on his lips, kissing him hard. Draco inhaled sharply, before kissing Harry aggressively back and pushed Harry up against the door with an audible “thunk”, taking control of the kiss. Harry was not okay with that, even though it was raising his libido extraordinarily fast. His plan was to make Draco breathless.

He let his hands run all over Draco, under his shirt, and feel the smooth skin hidden under it. Draco gasped and Harry pushed away from the door, turning around and slamming Draco into it instead, never breaking their kiss. Draco moaned into Harry's mouth and the sound went straight to his cock. He felt Draco's hands pulling up Harry's shirt from his trousers, slipping under them and groping Harry's arse over his boxers and he gasped.

“Are you okay, Harry?” Ron shouted through the door and Harry pulled away a few inches.

“Yes, I'm fine Ron!” he replied, his voice cracking.

“Are you sure?”

“ _Yes_.”

Draco's face was amused yet annoyed at the same time and Harry  sighed and readjusted his trousers.

“Well, I did make you shut up,” he offered with a smile.

“This isn't over, Potter. Now let me brush my teeth,” Draco growled.

Getting ready for bed with Draco in the same bathroom turned out to be harder than Harry had ever imagined. He got distracted all the time and caught himself staring at Draco when the blond brushed his teeth, flossed, or just happened to blush against Harry. And when Draco had changed clothes... Great Merlin, he had had to stare at the door, constantly telling himself that Ron was at the other side of it and would most definitely hear if Harry was ravishing Draco in the bathroom. In the end the two of them managed to get out of the bathroom without snogging the living daylight out of one another.

“Harry,” Ron looked up as he opened the door, “can I talk to you?”

“Er, sure.”

“In private.” Ron looked pointedly at Draco.

“This may come as a surprise to you Weasley, but you are a wizard. So use a fucking Silencing Charm.” Draco rolled his eyes at Ron before lying down in Neville's bed. Harry sat down on his own, facing Ron, and watched Ron cast a spell over them. He could still hear Draco move and pull up a book behind him and for a second he wondered if Ron had done the spell right.

“Draco Malfoy is a bouncing ferret fuck-face!” Ron roared and Harry turned around to stop Draco from killing his best mate. But Draco was lying under his covers, reading his book calmly as if he hadn't heard Ron at all.

“Guessed it worked.” Ron put his wand back on the bedside table, grinning as Harry turned back to him.

“Guess so...”

“So Harry...” Ron began awkwardly, then looked away from Harry. “Er, about you and Malfoy...”

“What about me and Malfoy?” Harry raised an eyebrow, his stomach fluttering.

“You – you seem to get along,” Ron said and Harry started to get where he was going with this conversation. “I just wanted to know, do you fancy him?” he blurted out.

He didn't know what to do, what to tell Ron and so on. Whatever was between him and Draco was so cut off from the rest of the world that he didn't know how to talk about it.

“I – I,” he started saying, but the words died on his tongue. “Yeah, I do,” he finally managed to get out.

“Oh,” was all Ron said, still not looking at him. Harry's heart began to beat harderbecause he didn't know what to expect of Ron. He could be angry for all kinds of reasons, and when Ron still wasn't looking at him Harry felt panic spread through his veins.

“Don't expect me to be nice to him, though.” Ron finally looked up and smiled at him. A little forced smile, but a smile nevertheless, and he knew that Ron was okay with it.

“I'll keep that in mind.” He felt himself grin back in relief.

“Does he know?” Ron whispered, as if Draco could still hear them.

“Know what?”

“That you, you know... like him...” Ron gestured with his hands a bit wildly.

“Oh, he most certainly knows that.” Harry didn’t know he was smirking a most Draco-like smirk at the moment.

Ron gasped. “You told him?”

“He asked me...” 

“Harry,” Ron looked extremely awkward once again, “what were you doing in the bathroom?”

“You really want to know?” Harry raised an eyebrow. Ron’s mouth closed in a tight line.“I don't think you do.”

“ _Harry!_ ”

“It's not like we were fucking or anything!”

“Oh my God! I can't believe you said that!” Ron had gone a bit green. Or maybe puce.

“I said we _didn't_!” 

“But that means that you must have done _something!_ ” Ron said in a voice that promised utter doom.

“Yes! I was snogging the freaking breath out of him!”

“Merlin's balls, Harry!” Ron exclaimed and let his face fall into his hands, shaking his head. “I don't wanna know...”

“Well I did say that you wouldn't...” Harry offered half-heartedly.

“Okay, look,” Ron looked up again, red as a tomato. “I'm okay with all this fancy-Malfoy-thing, just don't shove it in my face.”

“Merlin!”

Harry and Ron turned to look at Draco, and for a split second Harry thought that he had heard their conversation. But Draco was looking with wide eyes at his book, then twisting __ a curl of his hair, scanning the blond lock in disbelief.

“Well,” Ron said and Harry turned back to look at him. “I'm here for you mate. Just don't tell me stuff I don't want to know, alright?”

“Deal.” Harry smiled, relieved to have gotten that conversation out of the way and be making it out still in possession of all his limbs and then they said goodnight and Ron took down his Silencing Charm. Draco also turned over and put his book away. After a short period of time Ron was snoring loudly and Harry was wide awake, staring at the ceiling.

“Draco?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah?” came an answer, even quieter.

“Are – are you going to sleep like that?”

“What the hell do you mean?” Draco's bewildered voice asked through the dark.

“I mean, you seemed to have nightmares even though we slept next to each other.”

“Your point?”

“Well, maybe we should sleep in the same bed, I mean, it seemed to work yesterday.” Harry wanted to die. He could not for the likes of him figure out why the hell he hadsaid that. But the words had rolled off his tongue before he had even thought about it, and now he felt like slapping himself.

He heard Draco move in his bed, the duvet being kicked down to the foot of the bed and bare feet walking the couple steps to his __ bed.

“That was one of the lamest tricks to get me into bed with you, Potter,” Draco said, looking down at Harry and his wand shining in his hand.

“Well it worked, didn't it?” Harry smirked and moved to make room for Draco. Gently, Draco lay down next to Harry under the covers, laying his wand at Harry's bedside table and then it was all dark again. Harry could feel Draco's warmth next to him, and he turned so that he was facing him, even though he could only see Draco's silhouette in the night.

“So what happens now?” Draco whispered.

“Now I reach out for you – ” Harry answered and did just that, his heart beating fast against his chest as he touched Draco, “then I pull you close – ” Draco was warm against Harry's chest and he felt Draco's hands sliding over his shoulders and through his hair, making Harry shiver, “and finally I kiss you good night,” he said and then closed the last few inches between his and Draco's lips. Draco tasted like toothpaste and apples, and he kissed Harry back tenderly. There was nothing urgent about the kiss, it was slow and gentle, and Harry wrapped his arms around Draco possessively.

“Do you want to know what she said?” Draco asked after they had pulled away, only a few inches though.

“Who said what?” Harry was confused.

“Weasley. Or rather, the dark powers that had possessed her.” Draco's voice was so small and hesitant, and Harry couldn't help but wonder why he’d even brought the whole thing up. But in some way, Harry couldn't help but feel warm bubbling inside of him. This obviously bothered Draco, yet he wanted to tell Harry about it.

“Only if you want to,” Harry said gently.

“They – they say stuff, when they can reach me. In my dreams, or like that time in the corridor – ” Harry winced at the mentioning of incident in the corridor, “ – it's like they know my deepest fears. They say things like – like I'm not worthy of being loved, not of even being... alive, they bring forth my darkest memories,” he mumbled. “And – and Weasley, though it wasn't really her, said things about how I got it all wrong. How you couldn't love me and – ” his voice broke off and Harry cupped his cheek and looked at him through the little light that the stars outside the window had to offer.

“Don't believe that, Draco,” he whispered reassuringly. “I'm sorry that I've let this happen for so long.”

“You couldn't have known.”

“But you shouldn't have had to go through that anyway. I'm sorry.”

“Stop apologizing to me!” Draco hissed, and then looked at Harry alarmed. “I – I, fuck it, I'm sorry. It's just that I can't help but to listen to that voice, I can't forget what it's telling me now that I remember it and – ”

“Shut up, Draco,” Harry cut him off. “There is no one here to tell you all that crap right now, so ignore it and try to sleep.”

“Fine...”

“Good night Draco,” Harry whispered and kissed Draco gently.

“Night Harry,” Draco mumbled.


	21. Chapter 21

_Du stjärna över Betlehem,  
o, låt ditt milda ljus  
få lysa in med hopp och frid  
i varje hem och hus!_

_. . ._

_You, star over Bethlehem,_

_oh, the your tender light_

_shine through with hope and peace_

_in every home and house._

" _Nu tändas tusen juleljus" ("Now light up thousand Christmas candles"), Emmy Köhler_

 

It was an early Saturday morning, and it was still a little dark outside as the sun was about to rise.

Draco hadn't had any nightmares that night as far as Harry could tell, which was quite a relief. He watched the blonde laying with his eyes closed only inches away from Harry's face. His hair was all messed up and Harry smiled a little.

“See something you like?” Draco asked, not opening his eyes, and Harry's breath caught in his throat.

“You're such a snaky bastard,” he said.

Draco's eyes flew open and he smirked devilishly at Harry, making his heart beat faster.

“You love it.”

Draco leaned forward and kissed Harry, their mouths melting together as they met. He felt a moan vibrate between them, but he couldn't figure out  who it had come from . He drew Draco closer to him with the arm around his back, feeling his heart pound at the touch of Draco's smooth body against his, and Draco's delicate fingers cupping his cheeks.

“Draco...” he whispered against the Slytherin's lips.

“Gods, Harry.” Draco's hips jerked forward and Harry could feel his hardness against his thigh, and he felt himself grow impossibly, painfully harder in a second. “Do you have to make sounds like that?”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” he said in the same voice as before, breathing hotlyin Draco's ear. “You mean like this?”

“Yeah...”

Harry thrust his hips forward, crushing their erections together and Draco's lips found Harry's once more, moaning into his mouth. A thrill ran down Harry's spine and all he __ wanted to get as close to Draco as possible. Without realizing it, he pushed himself on top of Draco, pinning the other boy down with his body. His mouth moved from Draco's lips to his jaw and throat, he tasted somewhat sweet and the skin was smooth under Harry's tongue.

Draco gasped, and his hands took a hold of Harry's head and shoulders, as if to keep Harry where he was.

Harry could feel Draco's pulse under his lips, and every sound Draco made went straight to Harry's cock. __ His hands wandered under Draco's t-shirt and it felt so strange yet wonderful to him. Draco seemed  to be thinking the same , as Harry felt a warm hand sneak under his t-shirt and he sucked on __ Draco's throat harder, making Draco cry out.

“We – we should put up a Silencing Charm,” said Draco, pulling away from Harry a little and looking him in the eye. “Or are you a kinky bastard that wants your friend to hear you?” His pupils were blownand his voice wasdeep and raspy and Harry wanted nothing more than to fuck him right then and there. 

Never breaking eye contact, Harry slipped his hand under the pillow and drew out his wand, murmuring a Silencing Charm before putting it back where it was.

“Happy?” he asked.

“Not until you kiss me again,” Draco whispered matter-of-factly.

Harry didn't even blink before he lunged forward and placed open-mouth kisses on Draco's mouth, his throat and collarbone, biting and sucking just to make Draco moan even louder. He felt Draco's hand slip under his pyjama-bottom and he hissed as Draco grabbed his arse with a warm hand.

Suddenly there were too many clothes in the way. Harry wanted to feel Draco's body against his without layers of fabric between them.

“Off,” he commanded and started to pull up Draco's shirt, but he felt Draco freeze underneath him. Harry looked up at Draco's face to see what was wrong, and saw him staring at Harry, panic in his eyes.

“What is it, Draco?” he asked softly.

“I – ”

Draco looked away, and Harry felt him withdraw.

And suddenly it hit him.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered and bent down, kissing Draco's chest on top of his shirt.

“Don't be,” said Draco. “I believe I deserved it.”

“Don't say that.”

Gently, Harry started to pull Draco's shirt over his head once more, and this time Draco didn't stop him. He lay there under Harry, stiff and watching Harry's every move, like he was waiting for Harry to turn away, saying that didn't want to do this anymore.

Harry watched as the faint scar across Draco's chest was revealed, even paler than Draco's own skin and so obvious on the otherwise __ perfect body.

Harry sighed and leaned his forehead against Draco's, looking him in the eye, even though Draco wouldn't meet his gaze.

“Look at me,” he said.

Hesitatingly, grey eyes met green and Harry stroked his thumb over Draco's cheek gently.

“That doesn't matter,” he said. “Neither does this.” He took Draco's left wrist and Draco hissed and tried to pull his arm away. But Harry held it firmly and looked at the Dark Mark, so ugly on Draco's skin. Pushing away a little from Draco, Harry started to cover the mark with kisses.

“It's a scar,” he then said, looking down at Draco once more. “But it doesn't make me love you any less.”

Draco's eyes were watery and he bit his lip, looking at Harry.

Harry  curled up against him , wanting to show with gentle kisses what he was dying for Draco to understand; that he was loved.

“You take off your shirt too,” Draco said quietly, but Harry heard him, and he sat up beside Draco and pulled his shirt off in one move and then tossed it on the floor. Draco eyed his bare chest and Harry felt himself blush, suddenly feeling very self-conscious about being shirtless in front of Draco.

Slowly, Draco sat up too, and hesitated before reaching out  to draw a line down Harry’s chest. The gesture was so simple, but it was reassuring for Harry and he relaxed and reached out to draw Draco close. He pulled Draco up so that he sat __ sitting in Harry's lap looking down at Harry, and gradually he could see a smirk spread across the Slytherin's face and his eyes  darken further with lust. Harry felt his heart pounding in his chest, his skin burning everywhere Draco touched and he could hardly breathe.

Draco cupped Harry's cheeks and leaned down, stopping just before their lips touched, his breath washing over Harry's face and making his stomach flip. And then Draco thrust his hips forward, slamming their erections together and Harry couldn't help moaning against Draco's lips.

God, he wanted Draco so badly. Without thinking about it anymore, he pushed forward, toppling Draco onto his back against the mattress with the sheets rustling and he followed lying on top of Draco once more. It felt so  overwhelming , the contact between them, and Harry couldn't think of anything that wasn't  _Draco_ .

“Kiss me.” Draco's voice was quiet and raspy, which was one of the most arousing things Harry had ever heard.

He kissed Draco passionately, his hands running up and down the Slytherin's body, trying to take in as much as possible of Draco's smooth skin. When his hand touched Draco's erection he gasped loudly, making Harry freeze for a second.

“Can – can I – ” he stuttered.

“Fuck me, Harry,” Draco cut him off and thrust his hips into Harry's hand.

“God, yes,” was the only thing Harry could think of saying with Draco lying there, his eyes so intense and cheeks pink, and how Harry could feel every breath he took wash over him.

He started pulling down Draco's silk pyjama-bottoms to find that the Slytherin  wasn’t wearing anything underneath and  _ that _ he found oddly arousing . Draco lifted his hips to help Harry, and started to pull down Harry's bottoms as well. With a bit of difficulty, they were both soon naked and Harry gasped at the contact of skin to skin. It was as if he could feel everything, Draco's every muscle under him – it all felt so fucking right.

Draco reached under Harry's pillow and pulled out Harry's wand, casting a Lubrication spell in Harry's hand. The act caused Harry to pause for a second. Was he really going to put his fingers inside Draco like that?

Draco must have sensed Harry's hesitation, as he dropped the wand and reached up to press a gentle kiss on Harry's lips.

“It's going to be fine,” he reassured.

“I – I don't want to hurt you,” Harry confessed.

“You're not going to. You're going to take care of this.” And just then he jerked his hips upwards again, slamming his hard cock against Harry's inner thigh, making both of them moan.

With a little uncertain hand, Harry slipped between Draco's arse cheeks.

“Just take it slowly and it's going to be fine,” Draco said, and Harry pushed the tip of his finger inside Draco.

It was so tight, and such a heat don't need surrounded his finger that Harry felt his stomach drop, he couldn't wait to fuck Draco properly. He drew the finger out and thrust it back in, making Draco groan. He did the same thing, again and again, until Draco told him to add a second finger and later a third.

“Okay, I'm ready, Harry,” Draco said in a small and steady voice.

“You're sure?” Harry had to ask, even though his cock was screaming for attention. Draco was more important.

“For fucks sake, yes Harry!” Draco exclaimed, glaring at Harry. “Just fuck me, Harry.”

He found Harry's wand in the twisted bedsheets as Harry pulled out his fingers, and pointed it at Harry's cock. He murmured the same Lubrication spell as he had cast in Harry's fingers, and Harry felt the cold oil around his cock and he flinched. Then Draco took his cock in his warm hand and guided it. Harry pushed up Draco's legs a little to get better access, and he looked down to meet Draco's eyes. They were filled with so many emotions – lust and arousal, but also tenderness and vulnerability. His hair was all messed up,  in his eyes and lying spread across the pillow , his mouth slightly parted as breathed heavily and his cheeks flushed. He had never been more beautiful, and Harry would save his image in hid mind __ forever.

Slowly he pushed inside, guided by Draco's hand and they both groaned out loud. It was so tight and the heat was unbelievable – he was actually inside of Draco – and he just wanted to thrust inside hard and quickly.

“God,” he moaned.

“Faster,” Draco commanded, and Harry was only happy to obey, driving all the way inside, making Draco moan loudly. Harry drew out and pushed back in again quite slowly and Draco cried out in a high-pitched voice making Harry go faster.

His heart was pounding fast and for each sound Draco made Harry slammed harder, faster, crying out Draco's name and never taking his eyes off the man he loved.

“Harry!” Draco cried out and pushed his hips upwards meeting Harry's thrusts, gasping loudly when Harry slammed inside at a particular angle. “Do that again,” he rasped. And Harry did, making Draco scream his name again with every thrust, fisting Harry's hair and the sheets in his fingers.

With a loud cry, Draco came all over his and Harry's stomach,  and Harry thrust inside of Draco one final time , coming as well before collapsing on top of Draco. They lay like that, trying to catch their breath for a while, until Harry sat up straddling Draco, trying to find his wand that was now lost in the sheets. After a while he spotted it under the duvet and he cast a Cleaning Charm on both him and Draco.

“Good down there?” Harry smiled at Draco who hadn't moved much since they had collapsed together.

“Shut it, Potter,” Draco snapped and Harry just laughed and leaned down and kissed him, Draco answered his kiss despite his scowl.

Just then the alarm clock rang loudly making them both jump. Draco reached over to the clock and turned it off, pushing Harry off on the way.

“What the hell?!” Harry exclaimed.

“Do you want your friend to wake up and find us like this?” Draco shot back.

Harry looked over his shoulder through a little gap in the curtains to find his best mate still snoring outside.

“It's fine, he's still sleeping,” he said.

Draco looked down on him from where he was half sitting at the head of the bed, his face unreadable. But then it broke out in a hesitant, tender smile and Harry felt a warmth wash over him inside.

“So, it's Saturday and I just got laid. I'd say things are looking good.” He smirked.

Harry turned around to Draco, smiling goofy at him. “I'd reply with a 'yeah' to that.” And then he reached up and kissed Draco in the corner of his mouth.


	22. Chapter 22

_Deep in the northern sky_

_Bright stars are beaming;_

_Christmas is drawing nigh_

_Candles are gleaming._

_Welcome thou vision rare,_

_Light glowing in thy hair._

_Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia!_

_"Sankta Lucia" ("Santa Lucia"), English translation_

 

Draco and the other eighth years  practised the ceremony all of Saturday. Soon after breakfast they all went to the choir room with their gowns in hand and scowls where Professor Flitwick was already waiting for them.

“Don't take outyour lyrics,” he told them as soon as they settled down.

“But won't we need them when we sing?” Weasley asked with a bit of panic in his voice.

“No. It's essential that you know the songs by heart Mr Weasley, and that goes for all of you.” He looked over the class, ignoring the groans and the angry glares that were sent his way.

“So, now we are going to practise how we willwalk and stand. The Great Hall is much bigger than this choir room as you all may know, but that does not matter for the moment. The important thing to remember is how quickly you walk how you get to your position on the choir risers. There will be one riser identical to this one where the head table usually sits for the ceremony.

“Now! Everybody stand in their vocal groups just at the door, except you Mr Malfoy.”

The whole class stood up and walked to the door that they had just walked through and stood in their  ordered groups . Draco walked over to Flitwick, who looked up at him with a smile.

“Now, you are going to walk into the Hall in a Lucia-train, led by Lucia himself. So Mr Malfoy, if you'll stand in the middle of the room, yes right there,” Flitwick said as Draco walked to the middle, “and I'll give the rest of you a place in the procession. You are going to walk in pairs, and it's quite important that you remember who you are walking with, and who is walking in front of you and behind you.

“Now, all the sopranos, please step forward.”

 

Flitwick formed a line behind Draco, with the girls at the front and the boys at the back, organized in vocal groups.

“Well done, everyone!” Flitwick said after he was done. “Now we are going to practise how you should walk. Lucia will lead, as I said before, and Mr Malfoy, you will hold your hands like this.” He clapped his hands together and held them to his chest and Draco rolled his eyes, and then copied him.

“The procession will follow Lucia and when Mr Malfoy comes to the foot of the choir riser he will turn around and the train will split in two and go past him to take their positions. Does everybody follow?” Flitwick asked.

“So we are going to follow Malfoy and then split?” a random Hufflepuff asked.

“That's correct. Since you are in pairs, Mr Malfoy will be standing in the middle as you walk past him. So, Mr Malfoy, can you start walking at a relatively slow pace and the rest of you follow him?”

 

The  practise seemed to go on forever as Flitwick directed them to walk correctly, stand in their right spot and so on. The class seemed to have great trouble when it came to going up the choir riser,  as the first in the procession was supposed to stop at the lowest steps and the boys at the back would eventually end up.

The class turned out to be slow learners as they stepped and bumped in on each other. Draco watched his classmates and how they were utterly failing at everything, some walking too quickly, other too slow, and the whole concept of walking up the riser turned out to be increasingly heard for most of them.

Draco saw how Harry on more than one occasion failed to walk past him, stumbling on the steps and not really knowing where his feet were supposed to go. It was hard not to grin at the downright adorable awkwardness and the frustrated blush on Harry's cheeks, because Draco knew that he was somehow responsible for it.

 

“Okay, everyone! I think we will take a break now, so you can all enjoy some lunch,” Flitwick said after an eternity. “Think about how you should walk and so on, everyone, and be back here at one o'clock!”

The students rushed to the Great Hall in a hurry, before Flitwick could change his mind.

“ _Merlin_ , I thought he'd never let us go!” Weasley exclaimed as they sat down by the Gryffindor table.

“Well, he obviously wants everything to be perfect,” Pansy said as she started to fill her plate with food.

“It has to be perfect, or else everything might be ruined,” Hermione pointed out.

“It's still hard though...” Weasley said grumpily.

Draco had watched the whole conversation with wide eyes, for the first time really realizing that things actually  _had_ changed. Pansy had spoken civilly to not only Hermione but also  _Weasley_ and they had both answered just as politely.

Draco thought it might have something to do with him saving Weasley's sister that had caused the infuriating ginger to change his mind, and in Hermione's case he couldn't actually say that he was all that surprised. She and Pansy had developed some kind of truce, and almost friendship between them. Still, he was a bit taken aback at how fast everyone had come to accept one another.

 

Lunch past quickly, and Draco told Hermione about an interesting spell he had found last night.

“So let me get this straight,” Weasley cut them off in the middle of a theoretic discussion, “you found a spell that can turn your hair into _candles_ , and you want to use that in the ceremony?” he asked sceptically.

“Almost correct, Weasley,” Draco drawled. “I was asking Hermione if it perhaps _might_ be useful at all.”

“And why would candles made of _your hair_ be  in any way useful?”

Draco rolled his eyes at Weasley and was just about to snap back at him, but Hermione beat him to it.

“Because Draco is Lucia, anything that is his should be useful as a weapon against the dark powers. For example, when Ginny was possessed,” Weasley winced and Hermione plowed on, “Draco could touch her when no one else could. Therefore, the candles might have some affect on the dark as well.”

“We should probably talk to McGonagall about it, or at least Flitwick,” Theo put in from across the table.

“Hm, yes that's a great idea,” Hermione mused.

 

After lunch Draco and Harry took a quick detour to the Eighth Years Tower to fetch the book that he had been talking about, and then met up with the others on their way to the choir room (but not without some heavy snogging in the common room first).

“May I see?” Hermione asked.

Draco turned to the right page and pointed at the paragraph as they walked.

“There,” he said.

Hermione did not say a word the rest of the way, and her boyfriend had his arm around her shoulders so he could prevent her from walking into something or someone. When they came to the choir room she had to put the book away of course, and they all spent the rest of the afternoon rehearsing the ceremony several times, first with their normal clothes, then with the nightgowns.

 

“That will be it for today,” Flitwick said hours later. “I'll have you back here same time tomorrow, and don't forget to bring your gowns!”

“I've thought about the spell.” Hermione walked up to Draco as soon as Flitwick had uttered his dismissal. “I think we should try it just to see if the candle is any different from an ordinary one, and then talk to Flitwick tomorrow.”

“Sounds good to me,” Draco said as they walked out. “I'm just thinking that if it works, then I'll have to rip a lot of hair for my head.”

Hermione laughed. “Yes, that's true, but I think just one strand of hair per candle, maybe even less.”

“Still, it's a lot,” Draco huffed.

“It's hair, Draco. It grows out again.” Hermione rolled her eyes.

 

After dinner, back in the common room, Draco tried the spell in question. The strand of platinum-blonde transformed into a white, tall candle as Draco uttered to words to the spell.

“It looks normal to me,” Harry said from where he was studying at a tablebehind Draco.

“How the candle looks is not important, it's the flame that's the key,” Draco said and picked up the candle.

Hermione and Theo were following the action closely, both outrageously  fascinated.

Draco tapped his wand against the wick and a white, extremely bright flame began to burn. Draco was momentarily blinded by the light and blinked rapidly as he heard Harry saying “Wow...” behind him.

Then someone blew out the candle, Hermione he guessed, and the world finally came back into focus.

“What happens if you take another person's hair?” Theo asked.

Draco turned around and took a stand of hair from Harry without asking and before the Gryffindor could even  recover from his indignant yelp he cast the spell over it. The candle was matte red, and when Draco lit it, the flame was red and yellow, burning tenderly.

“And here I thought you couldn't possibly be more Gryffindor than you already are, Harry.” Draco smirked and turned to Harry who was blushing.

“Er, well – ”

“I think we definitely should take Draco's candle to Flitwick tomorrow and ask if it may help,” Hermione cut Harry off.

“I agree,” Theo said and Draco nodded.

 

.:X:.

 

Flitwick gave both Slytherin and Gryffindor ten points each for finding the candle-spell and said that he was going to talk to Professor McGonagall about it. Draco made him a candle to show her.

Rehearsal went so much smoother than it had the day before, and by lunch even Weasley had gotten most of the songs right  in his fumbling, tuneless voice .

On their way to the Great Hall Draco spotted Mini-Weasel and Loony Lovegood walking together, talking about something that he was sure he __ had no interest in. But then an idea sprang to mind and Draco shouted “Weasley!”, making Harry jump as he was walking beside him.

Weasley turned around, her face cold, but curious, and her friend looked at Draco with a dreamy expression. Draco walked up to her, his hand in his bag that he had over his shoulder.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” Weasley looked at him irritatedly.

He looked over at Lovegood, debating whether he should say this in front of her, but decided that he really didn't care what the Ravenclaw thought.

“I just wanted to give you this,” he said and fished up the candle he had transformed last night out of his bag. “Light it when it's dark, so things like before don'thappen again.”

Weasley scanned the candle critically. “What's so special about this candle?”

“I don't think you want to know.”

“Take it Ginny,” Lovegood said, and Draco turned suprisedly to her. “You shouldn't snap at someone who is trying to perform an act of kindness.”

“This is merely self-preservation,” Draco prickled andsaid.

“Okay!” Weasley snapped and took the candle. “Thank you, Malfoy.”

Draco shrugged and started to walk away from the two of them, Harry suddenly by his side once more.

“You keep surprising me, Draco. Wonder what Ron would say if he knew you offered his sister protection?” Harry smirked at him.

“Tell anyone that I was nice to Weasley and I'll kill you, Harry.” Draco didn't even look at him, but he knew Harry was smiling brightly at him, he could feel it. And it made him smile too.


	23. Chapter 23

_Natt över judaland, natt över Sion.  
Borta vid västerland slocknar Orion.  
Herden som sover trött, barnet som slumrar sött.  
Vakna vid underbar korus av röster._

_Stråla så härligt klar, stjärna i öster._

_. . ._

_Night over the Jews land, night over Sion._

_Out in westernland Orion goes out._

_The shepherd that sleeps wearily, the child that slumbers sweetly._

_Awoken at a magnificent chorus of voices._

_Shine so wonderfully bright, star in the east._

“ _Betlehems stjärna”/”Gläns över sjö och strand” (“Bethlehem's Star”/”Shine Over Lake and Beach”), Tegnér/Rydberg / arr: Agnestig_

 

It was Monday evening, after dinner, and the whole eighth year was gathered in their common room.

“There is one thing I don't understand,” Seamus said, “ _why_ do we _all_ have to stay up all night?”

“Because, if you don't, dark powers will penetrate your mind and whisper your worst fears in your ear, show you the things you don't wish to remember and drag you intoendless darkness. Fancy that, do you?” Draco gave Seamus a death stare that made shudder.

“Had a lot of experience with that, have you?” Seamus mumbled, but Draco heard him.

“On second thought, feel free to fuck off and go to sleep, Finnigan.” Harry snickered form where he stood next to Draco.

Before Seamus, or anyone else for that matter, could protest even more, Hermione, Pansy, Neville and Ron walked into the room,  carrying a huge basket __ each filled __ with all kinds of food and bottles of butterbeer.

“What's this?” Greengrass rushed forward to help Pansy heave her basket on to a table. Pansy turned to Hermione with a raised eyebrow, as if to ask her to answer Daphne's question, and Harry just stared at the mountain of cupcakes that were in Hermione's basket, thinking; _that's a lot of cupcakes..._

“Well, tradition says that when they stayed up to watch the night, the people usually had a feast,” Hermione answered. “So I thought that we should do that as well.” She smiled a little as she placed her basket beside Pansy's.

“So we can stay up all night and have a party?” Seamus asked, a note of hope shining in his voice.

“Well, not you. You wanted to go to bed,” Draco said and smirked.

 

The watch turned out to be quite fun, actually. It had started when Draco had said that if Seamus was to be allowed to stay in the common room and not go to bed he had to beat Bulstrode in who could eat most cupcakes without having to throw up. Seamus,  who could never resist a bet , agreed and said that if he won Draco owed him five Galleons. Draco had casually pulled out five Galleons from his pocket and placed them on  the basket laden table with a loud  _thunk_ , his eyes still on Seamus, and all of a sudden  there was a flurry of bets being made. Dean was taking in bets on who would win and the pile of Galleons grew higher by the minute.

“You never really asked me if it was okay, Draco,” Millicent pointed out as she walked up to stand beside Draco.

“You've had your eyes on those cupcakes since Hermione carried them in, love. I merely gave you the opportunity to eat as many as possible without anyone complaining.” He smirked at her and the look on Millicent's face told Harry that Draco had been right all along.

“Still...” Millie trailed off in a weak protest.

“You really know how to get the party going, Draco,” Pansy said and squeezed herself in between Draco and Harry and slipped her arm around Draco's.

Draco looked down at her with questioning eyes and Harry scanned the common room for Neville, thinking that he might hold  some answers to Pansy's sudden mood. Harry spotted him on the other side of the room, talking to Hannah Abbott. He turned his head and met Draco's eyes over Pansy's head,  in silent question and agreement .

Harry knew what Draco was going to do the second before it happened, when he watched Draco's grey eyes turning to Neville, looking  determined.

“Longbottom!” he called out through the room and several heads turned towards him, including Neville's.

“Yes?” Neville asked, looking pale as Draco glared at him.

Draco merely gestured his hand, saying that Neville should walk over to him,  pointedly ignoring Pansy's stare and Millicent's raised eyebrow. Neville whispered something to Hannah who looked like she had seen a Death Eater, and he walked across the room, looking anywhere except at Draco and Pansy.

“I just wanted to ask you if you’ve managedto make my bed smell like a greenhouse yet? It would be good to know so I can prepare myself for when I get it back.” Draco's face was beyond smug as he smirked at Neville who looked little under the Slytherin's gaze, even though he was the taller of the two.

“I – I don't know, shou–– should I go and check for you?” Neville stuttered and Harry could see how Draco was trying to suppress his laughter. Harry looked over at Bulstrode to find that she clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her chuckles. Only Pansy looked like she was ready to storm away if only Draco would only let go of her arm.

“No need to, I'll do it myself, I have togo and fetch something anyway. Here, take Pansy's arm will you?” Draco's smirk drew even wider as panic flashed over Neville's features. “Brilliant!” Draco said and practically threw Pansy at Neville before turning around to walk up the stairs, dragging Harry with him before Neville even had a chance to answer.

“You're pure evil sometimes, do you know that?” Harry said as soon as they entered Harry's and Ron's dorm.

“Thank you.” Draco's eyes almost shined when he smiled back at Harry who had to take a hold of the doorframe to keep steady. “I'll take that as a compliment,” Draco said.

“Of course you would.” Harry rolled his eyes. “What are we doing here anyway?” he asked.

“We are making certain that Longbottom and Pansy start talking. And fetching some candles,” Draco answered and then turned to one of his bag and fished up five white candles that he had undoubtedly made himself.

“And now?” Harry asked.

“Now we're going to check if my bed really smells like a greenhouse or not.” Draco placed a quick kiss on Harry's lips on his way through the door and then walked away to his own dormitory. Harry quickly ran after him before he could get too far.

“You realize that you're being childish, right?” Harry asked teasingly.

“Caution and childishness are two different things, surely you realize that. And you can never be too careful when dealing with Gryffindors, can you?” Draco smirked.

“Oh really?” Harry raised an eyebrow, trying to look mysterious and possibly sexy.

He must have done something right, as Draco grabbed his shirt and  snatched him forward, crushing their lips together. Harry gasped before kissing Draco back, pushing him up the wall with his hands on Draco's hips. Draco's hand found Harry's hair and he licked Harry's lips,  in invitation for Harry to open his mouth and Harry happy obeyed, letting Draco kiss him breathless.

Suddenly he heard a strange, gagging sound and Harry jerked away to see what  could possible have caused it.

“Great Merlin, Harry! Do you have to do it where people can see you?” Ron exclaimed, looking at everything except Harry and Draco, his face red as a tomato.

“It was actually Draco who started it,” Harry defended himself.

“I don't care – just, just step away from each other, okay?” Ron asked weakly and Harry took a step back looking back at Draco who looked delighted that he managed to make Ron uncomfortable.

“Were you planning on saying something, or did you just have urge to make us stop?” Draco drawled.

“No,” Ron snapped, “I was going to tell you that your crazy game was about to start.” Ron glowered at Draco, eyes full of rage.

“Fantastic, you're not completely useless after all,” Draco said and started walking to the common room.

“Really Harry, what the hell do you see in him?” Ron hissed in Harry's ear and Harry couldn't help but to stare at Draco's arse as he walked in front of him.

“Er... I guess you just have to see him when he lets his guard down,” he said.

 

.:X:.

 

Draco's little betting-game turned out to be great fun,  like he knew it would, __ especially since he got to watch Finnigan make an utter fool out of himself. Naturally, Millicent won the bet and Draco made a fortune  and in an uncharacteristic move he gave it all to Millicent since he maintained that she was the one who had done all the hard work.

“Where are you going?” he asked Finnigan as the Irishman started walking to the dormitories.

“You said that I have to go to sleep if I lost, remember?” Finnigan snapped back.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Really Finnigan, don't be more of a fool than you usually are. You're staying here until the sun rises, even if I have to bodybind you.”

“Really?” Finnigan looked at him with wide eyes, like he didn't believe what Draco just have said.

“ _Yes_ , now get your arse back here,” Draco snapped.

Finnigan didn't need to be told another time, as he rushed to sit down beside Thomas before Draco could change his mind.

 

The watch turned out to be more like a House party. Someone had turned on the WWN and music was pounding out through the tower. They played different games, including two hilarious rounds of Truth or Dare where Draco made Pansy and Longbottom kiss each other ( _finally!_ ). Stories were told, mostly by Granger, Theo and Thomas who seemed to know far too many, and every time someone was about to fall asleep someone would pour a glass of water over them.

It was Draco who started that tradition, as he felt how Harry was falling asleep next to him on the floor. But instead of just waking him, like a normal person, Draco simply took Theo's glass of water and emptied the glass over Harry who jerked awake immediately with a cry.

“What the fuck, Draco?!” he spat.

“You were falling asleep, you'll have to soot yourself.” Draco smirked and handed back Theo, who was staring at the two of them, his now empty glass.

Harry was glaring angrily at him, but Draco didn't mind so much and instead stared down anyone that were watching them. But in the end, Draco did look back at Harry and gulped, wishing that he hadn't had that brilliant idea with the glass of water after all. Because Harry was sitting there next to him, his white shirt soaked and leaving not much of his chest for imagination. Harry scowled at Draco, apparently oblivious to is ohgodso _hot_ state, and Draco flushed a little as he looked away.

Suddenly he was hyper aware of everything that Harry was doing, every breath he took, the rise and fall of his chest, how Draco desperately wanted to run his fingers through Harry's hair. He could feel himself growing hard and he had to shift his trousers.

“I have to go to the loo,” Draco announced suddenly, standing up.

“No one's exactly stopping you,” Theo pointed out.

“Potter, get up.” Draco promptly turned around and walked away, trusting Harry to come after him. He turned around once he reached the bottom at the stairs and saw Harry walking towards him, still frowning.

They walked up the stairs quietly together and walked into Harry's bathroom, and as soon as Draco shut the door and locked it Harry turned to him.

“What the fuck is your deal?” Harry exclaimed, but he didn't get an answer as Draco jerked him forward by his still soaking wet shirt and kissed him possessively. Harry moaned into Draco's hot mouth and let Draco push him down on to the toilet lid before stabling him, never breaking the kiss.

“You seriously thought that you could just walk around looking like that without me molesting you?” Draco murmured, his lips practically kissing Harry with every word, his hands running through the damp raven hair.

“Err...” was Harry's intelligent answer before he arched his hips up, making Draco aware of his growing hardness, and kissing Draco back with all he had.

Draco groaned into Harry's mouth as he felt hands running over his back, slipping further down and cupping his arse.

“Gods, Draco,” Harry moaned and Draco's hands travelled down to work on Harry's belt, trying hard to get it out of the way, still kissing Harry open-mouthed. Harry's hands started to unbutton Draco's shirt, his mouth and tongue leaving Draco's, sucking on the newly exposed skin of Draco's neck.

Draco moaned loudly, and one hand flew up in Harry's hair, as to keep him there as the other one tried to open the fly, and succeeding after some struggle. The boxers was far more easy to get out of the way as Harry helpfully shifted a little, both of his arms holding Draco tightly under his shirt, as Draco yanked the trousers and boxers down a little and took Harry's cock in his hand, stroking it. Harry made one of the hottest noises Draco had ever heard into the crock of his neck, and Draco continued to stroke him, enjoying how Harry's arms tightened around him and pulled him into Harry's chest.

One of Harry's hands stroked all the way up from Draco's chest to his chin and finally through his hair, making Draco shudder and he leaned down, gently sucking Harry's earlobe before breathing into his ear.

“I love you like this,” Draco whispered and the hand in his hair grabbed a hold of the blond stands, but not to hard for it to be painful though. “I love that I can make you become this.” He bucked his hips forward as to prove his point, making Harry groan. “You're mine, Harry.” Draco's voice was raw and low, possessive, and he used his own hand in Harry's hair to angle his head up, looking into those intense green eyes that were oh so filed with lust before kissing Harry deeply. Harry responded passionately, their tongues stroking each other, Draco sucking on Harry's bottom lips, making him moan.

Draco felt Harry's hand trying to get his pants to open up, and soon the hand in his hair leaved it and started pulling down the fabric that surrounded Draco's cock and arse. Draco helpfully rose from Harry's lap and kicked off the trousers and underwear along with them before settling back in Harry's lap.

Harry's hands were slipping under his shirt and grouping his arse and Draco gasped before relaxing into Harry's embrace, placing a sloppy kiss on Harry's mouth and taking his cock in his hands once more.

Harry began kissing his throat and collarbone, sucking gently here and there and Draco tilted his head and made a noise of encouragement that quickly turned into a disapproving his when Harry pulled away. He turned to glare at Harry who just smiled wickedly at him and stuck his fingers inside his mouth before putting his hand back on Draco's arse. He scanned Draco, who could practically feel his pupils dilating when he understood, his breath got caught in his throat.

“Can I?” Harry whispered, his voice oddly hoarse and God if that wasn't a hot sound.

“Yeah,” Draco responded, breathing out the words and closing his eyes, waiting. Hesitatingly fingers slipped between his buttocks, warm and wet, and he felt a groan rise from his throat as Harry slipped the first finger inside.

Harry's other hand was pulling his his head down, practically growling into his mouth.

“God Draco.”

It all became a muddle of gasps and sweat and touches, sloppy, open-mouthed kisses and groans. Draco's head was spinning, and all was Harry, and Harry alone. Before he knew it Harry's fingers hit that _ohholyfuck_ sweet spot and Draco's head flew back as he moaned loudly, his hand around Harry's cock moving faster than ever. Harry was panting against his neck, murmuring nonsense and Draco felt that he could stay here forever, in Harry's lap, his arms holding him steady.

Harry came first with a cry, and Draco followed shortly after.

In the end, Draco didn't know how long they stayed in the same position, riding the waves of post-orgasmic bliss, but far too soon Draco's limbs were starting to go numb so he pulled away with a sight and got up. He felt Harry's eyes on him as he picked up his trousers and pulled out his wand to cast some cleaning spells and dry Harry up, because _Merlin_ he couldn't walk around like that all night or Draco wouldn't quite what to do with himself.

When he finally looked up to meet Harry's eyes, the bastard was grinning like a fool.

“What?” Draco snapped at him.

“Nothing,” Harry said, shacking his head and getting up as well, but still grinning.

Draco simply glared at him and Harry chuckled while pulling up his fly.

“Come on,” he said and placed a kiss in the corner of Draco's mouth. “The others might start wondering why we're taking so long.”

He did have a fair point, Draco'll give him that, but he still made a fuzz about the state his hair was in all the way down to the common room and also announced that if someone asked he'd say that it was absolutely and solely Harry's fault that it took so long for them to come down, because really, it was.

When they came down though, no one had really missed them it seemed. The party was on, louder than ever, and the only one who really looked up and acknowledged them when they sat back down was Weasley, eyeing Draco suspiciously as if he could figure out why they'd taken so long just by looking at him.

Draco looked around then, finding that everyone else was busy doing something else, like watching Finnigan making an utter fool out of himself on the dance floor, there were actually people laying on the floor, screaming of laughter. Looked back at Weasley, Draco smirked at him before gabbing Harry (who was also laughing at Finnigan) by the shirt and kissed him quick in the middle of the freaking common room.

When he pulled back Harry stared at him with wide eyes as if he was mad, but Draco just turned his head once more to find that as expected, only Weasley and actually seen it, and he was looking like he was going to be sick. He really couldn't stop the laughter that was bubbling in his throat because of Weasley's disgusted face and Harry's stunned expression.

In the end, Draco had never laughed so much in his life as he did that night.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. This is it. Da last chaptah'. Writing this fic has been a total roller-coaster is the first fic I've written and manage to complete.
> 
> A HUGE thank you to Matilda, my friend without whom this fic would never been written. I'm not kidding about that, it would have been lost in the parallel universe of my brain. So thank you Matilda for listening to my crazy fanfiction plotbunnys and telling me to write it the fuck down. I need that.
> 
> Another thank you, including hugs and kisses and love to Dan, my totally awesome beta who saved me the 30th of November when I first met her (in the freaking drarry-tag on tumblr). Without her this fic wouldn't have been published either, and it certainly wouldn't hold the standard without her.
> 
> A final thank you to all of you who bothered to read this, not just the fic (although I'm very grateful for that too) but also all my A/N's.

_Stjärnorna leda oss, vägen att finna,_

_bli dina klara bloss, fagra prästinna._

_Drömmar med vingsus under oss sia,_

_tänd dina vita ljus, Sankta Lucia._

_. . ._

_The stars will guide us, the road to find,_

_become your clear torches, fair priestess._

_Dreams with wings murmur, under us predict_

_Ignite your white candles, Santa Lucia._

“ _Sankta Lucia”, Sigrid Elmblad_

 

Draco's heart was hammering in his ribcage, and he could hardly focus on what Professor Flitwick was saying. He caught words such as “very good”, “don't worry”, “be fine” and so on.

They were all standing in the  procession line in a corridor close to the Great Hall and everybody had one of Draco's candles in their hand, with a ring of thick parchment around it so when the candle burned, the candle wax wouldn't run down and burn one's hands. Everybody except Draco himself. He had something that looked like a crown on his head, made of candles and a wreath. He felt quite stupid wearing it, but he knew that it was crucial that he did, it was all a part of the ceremony.

Suddenly he noticed that Flitwick's lecture had stopped, and he heard footsteps  heading towards them. Draco looked up over Flitwick's head, just like everyone else, and saw Professor McGonagall walking up to them.

“Now,” she said, looking at each and everyone of them, “the rest of the school have gathered in the Great Hall and are waiting for you. As you may understand, they don't know what they are doing there. You can now light your candles now, but you can only begin to walk to the Great Hall when Lucia feels is the right time. And don't question Mr Malfoy if he makes you stand here for half a hour or so. Good luck.” The corner of her mouth went up in a little smile and she flicked her wand at Draco's crown and lit up the candles.

“Thank you,” he said quietly and hesaw how the corridor became brighter as his classmates lit up their candles behind him. It was still dark outside, and Draco could only imagine how the students in the Great Hall must be feeling right now. He himself would be furious that someone had dragged him out of bed when it was still dark outside for an unknown reason and he just had to sit and wait for something. He would have refused.

“Just follow Mr Malfoy's lead,” McGonagall said and then she and Flitwick turned around and started walked into the Great Hall.

Draco could feel all eyes upon him in the quiet corridor, the only sounds was people breathing and the professor's fading steps. He looked down at his gown and stared at the red ribbon around his waist for a few seconds. It was part of the apparel, and all the girls wore a ribbon too. The girls also had a wreath in their hair, but without the candles like Draco, and all the blokes had a white cone on their head. They looked rather silly and when Theo had put it on Draco hadn't been able to suppress his laughter.

He turned his head and looked outside a window at the end of the corridor. __ The stars were shining bright in the sky,  comforting and acting as a map to guide Draco to where he was going. He could feel the dark that was all around them, hanging heavily and oppressive over their heads. It was trying to get through the light and reach him, but the stars and the candles held it back.

It was time to obliterate it.

Draco closed his eyes and inhaled, his hands clapped together and a smile on his lips, and he began to sing.

“ _Sankta Lucia, ljusklara hägring, sprid I vår vinternatt, glans av din fägring.”_

He knew the words, understood exactly what they meant, and when he heard the others joining his song, he opened his eyes and took a step forward.

It felt as if they were floating, walking through the corridor peacefully with the candles lightning up their way. Soon they came to the Great Hall. All the candles that hovered in the ceiling weren't lightning up the hall as usual, instead one could see the early morning sky clearly  reflected the ceiling. Every head was turned towards them as Draco entered the hall. The candles in the crown on top of his head cast a white light across the great room and he kept his gaze straight forward, because he knew that everyone was gaping at him. Just like Flitwick had said, the staff table had been removed and there was plenty of space for the eighth years to stand.

Slowly the train of eighth years followed Draco into the hall, filling it with song. Draco could hear gasps and whispers and for a second he wondered what his Slytherins thought of this, but he __ quickly abandoned the thought. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Draco turned around like he was supposed to and watched as his classmates walked past him. Pansy winked at him as she walked past and Draco did the same, earning a suspicious look from Susan Bones that was walking behind Pansy.

Harry smiled brilliantly at Draco as he walked past, and Draco couldn't help but smile back, feeling the warmth spread through his veins knowing that that smile was for him and him only.

When the whole class had taken their places behind him Draco finally allowed his eyes to sweep across the room. Every eye was on him, looking at him with mostly surprise and astonishment.

 

The song ended and Draco could feel the entire choir relax a little, letting out a breath that they had __ all been holding as no one started to make fun of them. They then continued with their ceremony, singing song after song, and Draco could feel himself relax more and more as the world seemed to brighten up and the dark power vanish. It was like cold, dark pressure that he felt around them, outside the Great Hall, was slowly dissolved, the sun beginning to rise in the east, exterminating the dark that was trying to push through the walls of light.

It was all over in a flash, he didn't even notice that it was almost over until he found himself taking a step forward, beginning to lead the eighth years out of the Great Hall and completing the ceremony. The school watched in silence as they walked out, everybody realizing that this was the end of the ceremony. Draco continued to walk until the end of the song, leading the train two corridors away from the Great Hall where they finally stopped as the song ended.

Silence filled the corridor and Draco turned around to find every single eighth year watching him.

“Is it over?” someone asked.

Draco took a deep breath, closing his eyes.  He felt… normal. The giant shadow that had hovered over his head, ever present since the first of December was finally gone. He opened his eyes and smiled.

“Yes.”

A cry of sheer joy broke out somewhere in the line and suddenly Pansy was throwing herself at him, hugging him tightly.

“Candles, Pansy! I still have lit candles in my hair!” Draco yelpedand tried to pull away and regain his balance. But then Harry materialized beside him, steadying him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Keep still so we can blow them out then,” he said, his eyes gleaming and Draco felt an urge to snog him senseless.

Without waiting for Draco's response, Harry began to blow out the candles, Pansy also assisting.

When they were done he pulled off the wreath quickly, feeling stands of his hair being ripped off his head  by the branches entangled in his hair .

“Merlin,” he whined, running a hand through his hair. “I have candle wax all in my hair!”

“Well what did you expect, going around with lit candles on top of your head?” Harry asked teasingly.

“Shut up, Potter. I'm in agony, can't you see?” Draco moaned.

“Aww, darling Draco has candle wax in all his hair, do you want a hug?” Harry said in a mockingly sweet way and Draco did not think twice before he punched him on the shoulder.

“Ow – what the hell, Draco? No need to get physical.”

“You were mocking me, Potter. You deserve to _die_!” Draco said dramatically before he lunged for Harry.

He pushed Harry up the wall, holding both his wrists and trapping Harry's body there with his own.

“Dead yet?” he asked with a smirk.

“You'll have to try harder than that.” Harry grinned back.

“Or _not!_ ” a disgusted voice exclaimed somewhere behind Draco.

He turned around to find Weasley and Hermione there, Weasley looking like he had done last night when he'd found them snogging, and Hermione looking utterly gobsmacked.

“Really, Weasley? You _had_ to spoil everything just when it was getting fun.” Pansy glared at the ginger angrily.

“ _Where_ exactly is the fun in seeing stuff like _that_?! I've had my fair share, and it's printed behind my eyelids forever!”

“Glad that I couldtraumatise you, Weasley.” Draco let go of Harry and took a step back, smirking.

“So it was like the book said?” Hermione suddenly asked, looking at Harry.

“Thought you'd have already figured that out to be honest,” Harry answered her and smiled a little.

“What are you talking about?” Pansy demanded.

“I'll tell you later.” Hermione winked at her.

“Okay! Now lets get out of these night gowns. The sun rising and I do _not_ fancy being seen in this bloody dress more than required,” Draco said and started to march towards the Eighth Years Tower.

“I'll help you get out of that dress if you want me too,” Harry whispered in his ear, making Draco shiver.

“Well, since you're offering.” He smirked back at the Gryffindor, feeling joy rush through him, knowing that he was falling head over heels in love with Harry Potter.


End file.
